Lost Savior
by Rayless Night
Summary: Alternate Universe, rated for violence. Revya seeks the Master of Death. Then she finds him. And then nothing is ever simple again.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Soul Nomad and the World Eaters is the property of Nippon Ichi Software. _

_The language and suggestive themes are only at Teen level, but the Mature rating is in place because of violence and disturbing content, including in the first chapter._

_Author's Note: This is my normal style of AU. It takes places in the same world as the game, but I've changed a key plot point and shown one way the story might pan out. Most of the game's important characters either appear or are mentioned._

* * *

**Lost Savior **

1

"_If you want me to murder Vigilance, why won't you tell me anything about him?"_

"_You're not going to_ murder_ Vi-"_

"_You_ said_ I would."_

"_Being with you always reminds me how - simplistically - mortals view the world."_

"_But you _said_-"_

"_I should have never said anything. Dear, Vigilance is already dead."_

* * *

Revya had never seen anyone hold a baby before. The young father cradled his two hour's old son's head, so small it fit comfortably against his right palm. His left arm rested under his son's spine. The father had wiped the long splash of blood against his pants leg, cleaning off his hand before he touched the baby again, after he'd dropped the knife.

Revya's attention swung irresolutely between the father and the crowd that had surrounded the mother, trying to comfort her. Her sobbing had stopped. Revya couldn't see her anymore.

"What's the matter?"

Revya jumped and turned to face the girl next to her, Alanah, the twelve year old daughter of the family she was staying with.

"What's the matter?" Revya repeated, her eyebrows rising, aghast and incredulous. She gestured to the hut, where the father was now walking away, still carrying his bleeding burden. "He just-"

Alanah shuffled her feet in the dust, her chin rumpling as she pushed her lower lip out. "Yeah, but - hey. What else was he going to do? At least he didn't club the baby. That takes so long, and-" Her eyes darkened a moment. "Well, they still have two other kids."

Revya crossed her arms, as if to protect herself, disturbed by what she'd seen and the calmness of Alanah's tone. "I've never seen anyone killed before. Let alone a baby."

Alanah's gray eyes widened. "You said you were from far away but - _where_?"

Revya pressed her lips together and shook her head.

Alanah looked up at her. "Well, let's go back to getting those nettles for Mama."

Revya glanced back at the crowd. When they'd heard that the couple was due to have their new baby, everyone had gathered; Revya was surprised at how fast the news traveled, as none of the huts of this community were close together. After a moment, she shook herself and followed Alanah up the mountainside.

"That_ really_ doesn't happen where you come from?" Alanah said after they'd been gathering for a quarter hour. Though she'd only been with Alanah's family for less than a day, Revya was already quite familiar with Alanah's wheedling. "How do you keep the World Eaters away?"

Revya paused before dropping a nettle into her basket. "I get it."

"Get what?"

She looked squarely at Alanah. "That's why everyone lives so far apart. So you're not in a town."

"What's a town?"

"So you don't draw the World Eaters' attention. And you...make sure families don't get too large, because..." Revya thought hard for a moment, remembering what she'd studied. Seeing the reasoning behind it didn't lessen her horror. "Because I guess you'd need a town if you had to feed a lot of people."

Alanah cocked her head. "Um, _duh_." She stared at Revya a moment. "So, how do you keep them away? Without killing people."

Revya focused on her hands, pulling nettles. "There aren't any World Eaters where I come from."

Alanah raised her eyebrows. "Really? Wow." There was unmistakable skepticism in her voice. "So...what's it like there? Does it rain milk or something?"

Revya looked down the barren mountainside. "Well, there's a lot of water. Streams, I mean. And, um, flowers."

"Flowers?" Alanah repeated dubiously. Then she sniffed and stood. "Look, you don't have to lie to me just because I'm a kid."

"I'm not."

"Then you're stupid." She grabbed Revya's basket and started down the mountainside. "Mama said the flowers all disappeared years and years ago."

* * *

Having hardly slept that night, Revya left early the next morning. Even after the walk back with Alanah, the coolness from her parents, and a night of tossing and turning on their hut floor, Revya still hadn't banished the image of that baby from her mind. The first baby she'd ever seen and...the way his father had held the knife over his soft throat. Revya had seen the red gush of blood before, but only from animals. The baby hadn't cried out. Was that normal?

They routinely killed each other here. Why hadn't she been told that?

Revya left without waiting to tell the family goodbye.

* * *

Though she didn't think Alanah had been lying to her, Revya couldn't help scanning her surroundings for any sign of green. Broken-edged rocks studded the terrain, probably having tumbled down from the mountains. The ground itself was dry, dusty above a layer of hard bedrock that punished Revya's legs. Well away from the mountains, she stopped in her trek, revolving. A dingy overcast sky stretched overhead, met on every horizon by badlands. Plants? A few. Small thorn bushes, mostly. Revya knelt, rubbing her forefinger in the dirt. It had a faint ashy smell. Volcanism?

Maybe.

Coldness skittered across her half-exposed back. She tensed, but she took a deep breath, trying to make her movements smooth, as though she wasn't aware she was being watched. She rubbed her palm into the dust, brought her hand up as if to examine it. Was it another human watching her or an animal? How could she know? She'd never been watched by another human before.

She felt the heat before she saw the blast of light shooting towards her back. She wrenched her body around, falling to her elbow, feeling a slap of heat as the laser passed just over her shoulder. Lifting herself into a crouch, Revya ran a few steps, pulling free her sword, watching as another laser collided with the weapon, its black blade absorbing the light, warming it. Revya danced back a step, casting around. The laser had come from her left, but -

Another beam of light shot from nowhere, entirely out of the air. Revya dodged and ran towards its source, drawing her sword back to swing. She didn't really know what she was doing, she just knew she had to do something violent.

As her sword swung down, a broad, gray being materialized in front of her. Revya had only time to see that it was vaguely humanoid, like the metal monsters she knew were made in Drazil, before her blade cut into its iron shoulder, grinding. Long, gleaming arms lunged towards her, and without thinking, she hacked one off, then the other. She bit her lower lip. It hadn't argued or made excuses. It was all but making her kill it. With a concerted thrust from her back and shoulders, she drove her sword into its middle, haloing the blade with crackling purple lightning, racing up the blade and right into Revya's hands. She cried out, dropping the weapon, barely aware of her enemy evaporating like mist.

Revya slapped her hand against her leg, but the feeling hadn't been gone for more than a moment. She picked up the black sword, the metal hilt warm. Was that an attack she shouldn't have been able to live through?

* * *

After she'd been traveling for the better part of the day, eating as she walked (her bread and dried fruit seemed far too sweet for this world), she finally saw a change in her surroundings. Far away, obscured both by distance and the low smog of dust over the land, she saw flashing veils of light, twisting pillars of wind. Revya stopped a moment, considering.

_You didn't really tell me what to do. Well, you told me, often enough, but you didn't tell me how to do it. Or what I'd see when the time came. Or...anything I need to know right now._

It was something different, whatever it was. A fight. Perhaps weather. In any case, she needed to find something other than dust and rock to give her clues. She set out at a jog.

As she came closer, she heard shouts, clangs, and the whirling light and wind resolved itself into human shapes. A fight then. She slowed down, wanting to assess the situation rather than throw herself into a conflict.

A tall man stood closest to her, his back to her, his long black robes snapping as he gathered energy into his raised staff. Beyond him, four warriors circled each other, several in battered plate mail. Studying their stances and positions, Revya saw that three of them had ganged up on the fourth, a tall, wiry man with an obscured face. He had a...Revya squinted. His hands were empty. His sword, red and almost as broad as himself, floated behind him.

"Crush them, winds born from beyond heaven." The magician's voice was faint over the surrounding winds, a loud crash as one of the knights attempted to attack; still floating, the red sword swept forward and parried the lunge. The wind was picking up, slamming against Revya. She crouched to a genuflect, keeping herself close to the ground as the wind buffeted her. "Seize them, winds born of darkness."

Wind blasted across her. Revya threw herself to the ground, digging her fingers into the dust, certain the wind was about to pick her up. She thought she heard cries - it was impossible to tell over the loud roars of the gales. The moment she felt the winds slacken, she jumped up -

- and rolled to the side, feeling a flare of fire-heat and the ground shake as it split open. As she struggled back to her feet, one hand was already reaching for the sword on her back -

- which scraped out of her scabbard as she dove for the ground again, a lightning bolt arching over her. _"I don't want to fight you!"_ she shouted. Then she realized she'd shouted in entirely the wrong language. She shifted to the language of Prodesto. "Please! I don't want to fight you!"

"So they always say," a young man's voice said from not far off. A different voice, also male but deeper, _hmph_ed, offering no other commentary. "But what were you saying at first? I didn't quite...hear."

Revya had never lied before. She'd never had to. She took her time in rolling to her knees, glancing at the bodies of the knights. Neither of her assailants had stepped closer to her, though she could now see both of their faces - after a fashion. The magician wore a black dragonish mask, leaving only his chin and mouth showing, long blond hair beating the wind behind him. He had antlers, and maybe later she'd think that was funny. The other man, dressed in grimy red, was patched over with filthy bandages, most of his face hidden. Carefully, she returned her sword to the sheath on her back, not comfortable with the way the movement left her chest and side momentarily vulnerable. Even after all that, the best she could say was, "I was scared." She knew it had come too late.

The tall magician - a Dracon, that's what he must be - turned away. "Get out of my sight."

Revya climbed to her feet, then realized the other man was still watching her. She wished she could read his expression. She also wished she hadn't sheathed her sword. She cleared her throat. "Well, thanks." Not entirely sure what she was thanking them for, but all right.

"Who are you?" the bandaged man asked, his voice oddly ragged.

Revya drummed her fingers against her thigh. "Just on a journey, that's all."

The ragged edge intensified. "Whose is that sword?"

Revya glanced over her shoulder at the hilt of the black sword. "Um -" She glanced back at the strange man, afraid he was going to attack her. "It was given to me."

He didn't step towards her, but Revya had the unwelcome feeling that the distance between them was disappearing. "Who did it?"

"Do you know where it's from?" Revya countered. "I don't."

The bandaged man didn't answer, but he didn't look away.

Revya took a step to her left. "I need to keep going."

The Dracon glanced at her, then the other. When he spoke, his voice had a deliberate boredom. "Do you want the sword, Lord Gestahl?" Again, there was no answer. Finally, the Dracon let his attention rest on Revya. "Who are you?"

Though it was probably a misconception, his voice seemed less threatening than Gestahl's. Revya made a quick decision. "I'm looking for the Master of Death."

Revya thought she saw the Dracon's lip curl. "Then you're going in the right direction." For a moment, she braced, thinking he was about to attack, but he only said, "Continue south. You'll find Orviska."

Orviska. Was that a person? "What is-" The Dracon was already moving off. Gestahl also turned, though the movement seemed more reluctant. Seeing that she couldn't hold their attention long, Revya switched tact. "Who are you?"

"I am Dio of the Evil Eye," came the answer. "Now begone."

And faster than she thought was possible, they had disappeared into the dust.


	2. Chapter 2

2

_"Probably one of the first things you'll realize is that you're not like them. It may frustrate you."_

_"Why? Maybe I like being different."_

_"You hardly know you're different, sweetheart."_

* * *

The same day after parting from the two mysterious warriors, Revya came across a hut, not so different from Alanah's. A young woman - a Sepp, Revya realized - sat outside it, scraping an animal hide with a sharpened bone. Her shoulders hunched when she saw the black blade, so Revya didn't step close. "Are you Orviska?"

The woman blinked her big eyes. "What?"

"I guess not." Revya chewed her lower lip and looked south. It had grown too dark to see any great distance. "What _is_ Orviska?"

"Oh hell, you're one of them," the woman muttered. Surprised, Revya turned to see the Sepp backing into her hut. "Just move on. I don't want anything to do with your quest, or whatever." She swung the door flap closed.

Revya stared at the door flap for a moment, hoping the woman would come back out and explain herself. Revya could force her way in - she doubted the Sepp had much to protect herself with. She shook her head, fishing in her traveling bag. She withdrew a dried apricot and placed it by the hide. "I'm sorry for frightening you. I'll go now." And she did. Maybe the Sepp had never seen a fruit before. She'd probably think it was cursed and want to get rid of it. Still...

* * *

Revya rolled over, almost hitting the large rock she was camped against. Even after three days, she still found it hard to sleep without hearing her voice.

* * *

She started off before dawn, and as the light rose on her left, she finally made out a shape in the distance. She stopped, having never seen anything like it. That towering shadow - was that a...castle? Smaller, angular shapes jumbled around it, indistinct from the darkness. The wind blew towards her, carrying the scent of smoke, fresh smoke.

* * *

When she saw the skeletons, she didn't flinch or draw back. She'd already seen many, humanoid and animal, over the past few days, scattered worthlessly across the mountains and wastelands. But now she did catch her breath, because this was the first time she'd ever seen a pile of them, heaped deliberately together. A pyre? Some of them were burnt, but the scorch marks didn't cover all of them. A battle monument then.

Revya stood and stared at the jungle of bones, crossing each other, held within each other's grasp, the dusty darkness of the eye sockets. None moved, but something in the skulls' mouths held her there, their teeth bared wider than they'd been bared in life, manic smiles. She reached forward and touched a Redflank's skull, almost surprised it didn't snap her fingers off. She'd never touched a dry bone before. It was warm, grained slightly, almost like wood.

She'd killed animals before. Usually she'd been set after predators, to train her for combat. They didn't often show fear before they died. Had these people?

_You've never really shown me death before._ She removed her hand from the skull. _I think that was an oversight._

It was only the first of several haphazard ossuaries she encountered. The ground was studded not only with the broken remnants of a stone road but with human remains. Most of them were entirely bones, but others bore tatters of cloth, dark coats of what must have been skin. The closer she came to the castle, the more whole the remains were. She pressed her lips together, pressed her hand over her nose, trying not to inhale deeply. She also began to hear voices. Then she saw the walls, stones crumbled like spilled grain. People talked or strolled among the wreckage, most of them lumped under the shell of the front gate. Looking up, Revya saw a few bars sticking out from the arch. Maybe that had been a portcullis. Beyond and above was the castle, slender and intricately carved. Judging from the broad scorch marks across its face, it had seen a lot.

As Revya was looking up, a dirty paper flapped in the wind and landed across her face. She swiped it, jumping almost as if it had been an animal. Someone hooted. She glanced at the crowd. A few people, male and female, watched her. One woman smiled.

Revya angled the paper up._ Sale on Musical Toilet Plungers at the Chic Chevalier's! This weekend only!_

Revya blinked and dropped the flyer, which landed in a puddle of something brown. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped towards the gate. No one moved aside to let her pass, but no one blocked her way. She looked to either side, expecting to see the armored figures that would be guards, but there were none. She crossed under.

She'd seen visions of cities, and this must be one, but it was in worse repair than the walls, buildings toppled, flattened, marked only by stone foundations and a few pillars. Small huts and tents crouched in their slight shelters. The streets were crowded, but not loud.

Just as she'd made this observation, a man's voice cut through the air. "Look at you! Are you humans? Bowed down under a master you've never even seen! How can you live your lives like this?"

Revya turned. Most of the people were very carefully keeping their heads down, but she followed the few who were moving further into the ruined city.

"Orviska was a city of glory! The seat of Median the Conqueror! The birthplace of Layna the Firebrand! Look at it now - a cesspit! A shit-heap, crawling with disease! How do you live in it?"

So the city was Orviska. The other names, Median and Layna, left no impression on Revya.

The orator stood on the ruined wall of a house, his dented plate mail murky in the overcast light. He had his helmet under his arm, and Revya could see that he looked not much older than she, brown-haired, broad-faced and freckled. "For two hundred years we've cowered to the Master of Death. What has it gained us? Can anyone say? Nothing!" He punched his gloved fist into the air. "We've let the reaper oppress us, we've let him spill our blood! The blood of your parents, your grandparents, is buried beneath this rubble. No more! Their souls cry out to be avenged! Who will go with me?"

A group of warriors, armored similarly to the orator, brandished their fists and shouted. They were the only ones.

"Daft," a middle-aged man next to Revya muttered. "Are we ever going to be done with this?"

"Remember the group last month?" a younger woman asked, turning to him. "I really thought we'd persuaded them not to try it."

Revya shifted her weight. "Do people normally try to kill the Master of Death?"

The man glanced at her, then snorted. "Every few months or so, yeah, some idiots come through."

Revya tried to ignore the fact that her heartbeat had sped up, just a moment. "And you don't see them again." She glanced at the castle. "Why do you want to live here? I thought people lived apart to avoid the World Eaters' attention."

The man seemed surprised she still had questions to ask. He was already moving on, putting his arm around the woman's shoulders. "The reaper's not going to destroy his own city, is he?"

Revya watched him walk away, then looked up at the orator. He had turned to his followers, crouching down to talk quietly.

Swallowing, Revya strode through the dispersing crowd. "Excuse me-?" Several of the group turned, making her suddenly aware of her lack of armor. The orator's eyes widened when he saw her. Revya glanced around at the others' faces, but didn't give herself time to study their expressions. "I'd like to go with you."

The orator didn't speak for a moment, blinking slowly. Then he whooped. "Of course! I knew you couldn't all be cowards!"

"Bertram." An armored woman stepped forward, her chin length brown hair tinged with gray. Severe lines bracketed her mouth. "Wait a minute."

Bertram grimaced. "What, Ardis?"

"She's only a child, you can't let her risk her life like this."

He lifted his eyebrows. "We need every blade we can get. If we don't destroy the reaper, she may not live to be an adult."

Ardis frowned, then turned to Revya. "Can you use that sword? How old are you?"

"I'm seventeen," Revya replied. "And yes, I can."

The female knight's lips tightened. Her voice wasn't scornful, more resigned. "Still a child then."

* * *

Revya frowned down at the small bowl of beans Bertram had given her. "They're good," he insisted. "What, don't you have any where you come from?"

Revya shrugged and nibbled one. It was bland and mealy, but she was hungry and reluctant to break out her exotic fruits in front of the others. They'd let her sit with them around their campfire, under the shade of a ruined building, but she didn't feel like one of them.

"I've done some scouting," one of the knights said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "And the rumors are true - there aren't any guards. It looks like you can walk right into the castle."

Ardis drummed her fingers on her knee. "I'm not sure that's a good thing. There are probably traps inside."

"According to the writings of Edanna of Raide," one knight spoke up, "there are no traps, but there are guards further in."

"Edanna wrote that a hundred and twenty years ago," another knight snapped. "It's probably changed."

A young knight picked at his stubble thoughtfully. "The Master of Death redecorates?"

"All of this is useless," Bertram broke in. He sat next to Revya and gave her a heartening smile. "Dena's right, we don't know how much the reaper's fortifications have changed. We can't know what to expect. We just have to accept that."

Revya fingered the edge of her bowl. "Lots of people have tried this, right?"

Bertram seemed to think about it. "Most people never dare go near the Master of Death." He shrugged. "If you stay away and don't do anything crazy, he's not likely to come after you. And others try to curry favor with him, but that...seems to demand more than any mortal can give. But, yes, over the years, there have been many attempts to kill the reaper." He threw a stick onto the fire. "Not enough."

Revya tried to gauge his mood, wondering if she were about to insult him. "And what are we going to do differently?"

Several of the knights looked over, distantly. Finally Ardis spoke. "You mean a secret plan?" She cocked her eyebrow. "Child, we're fighting a god. There's nothing we can plan that will save us. We're looking for luck." She took a drink from her tin mug. "You want to back out?"

"No."

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Revya looked down at Bertram. She sat cross-legged on the building's remaining wall, staring up at the castle. She couldn't see much of it in the night, only its shape where it blotted out the stars. "Nothing." She'd been wondering if everything, everything would be over by this time tomorrow. "I couldn't sleep." Which was true enough.

He crossed his elbows on the wall. "I don't blame you. You know...you're very young. As grateful as I am for your support, you shouldn't do this unless you're sure."

"I'm sure," Revya said, almost before he'd finished.

He looked startled, then smiled. "Ah. I see."

"What?"

Bertram studied his gauntlet. "Ever since I was little, I've wanted to kill the Master of Death. Save the world. So did others, but they outgrew it. I never have." He laughed slightly. "You too?"

Revya lifted her eyes to the castle again. "I suppose so."


	3. Chapter 3

3

_"What I don't understand is...if you're so powerful, why don't you kill him?"_

_"I'm not sure it's my place."_

_"What? But you rule this world."_

_"Yes. But the Master of Death will never come for me. I am not his intended victim."_

* * *

They had a map of the castle. However, it was not the original, having been copied and recopied over the years, so its accuracy couldn't be guaranteed. Furthermore, it had first been drawn by Edanna of Raide, was more than a century out of date, and so might be the next best thing to useless.

"Three hundred and four rooms," Revya heard Bertram mutter as she and the knights made their way down the streets, still dark in the early morning. "Twenty three windows, none on the ground floor. Five stories above-ground, three below."

"The throne room isn't far in," one of the knights spoke up, obviously trying to sound perky.

"If the Master of Death's still waiting there," another one said more gloomily.

"Do you remember that old rope-skipping song?_ Layna the Firebrand, weary and dead. The Master of Death has sawed off her head. She's bound to the throne, tied up with twine. And passing her word to the petitioners' line._"

"I never did much rope-skipping."

Ahead, Revya heard Ardis mutter, "No guards." The castle's great doors stood open - in fact, there were no doors. Even in the half light, Revya could see the melted remains of their hinges, claw-like scorch marks around the opening. Even the edges of the door frame were warped and ragged. It was too dark to see inside.

One of the knights carried a mage's staff in lieu of a sword, and she lifted it, letting the globe on its top glow. Faint light swept in front of them, gliding over a mosaic-patterned floor, the torn corner of a long carpet.

"I'll go first," Bertram said, his voice hushed. They watched him as he stepped inside, his boots making soft taps on the mosaic. He drew his sword, and the others followed his example. He waited until he'd gone twenty paces before calling the others to him. Revya stood close to the mage, so she had a good view as the entry swelled with light, its haze playing off the walls. Some were painted, the paint cracked and missing, others bore long scars down them.

"Staircase," Ardis breathed, pointing forward. Ahead of them, a shallow staircase led to a raised gallery, hallways branching to either side. There were two tall doors in the center, their faces pocked with holes. They probably had been full of precious metals or gems, Revya guessed. If Edanna's map was to be trusted, they led to the throne room.

"_Layna the Firebrand, weary and de-_"

It was the same knight as before. One of his companions wheeled around and elbowed him in the chest, hissing, "What're you doing?"

The first knight grimaced. "Why should we go creeping up to him? Why shouldn't we-"

Ardis' whisper cut across them. "What was that?" Most of them braced. _That_ had been a long grinding sound as of heavy metal machinery. Revya slightly bent her legs, bracing for an attack. The floor vibrated.

Ardis cried out, and then half of them were running for the staircase, the other half for the front door. Meanwhile, the floor was shaking, tilting. Maybe some of them made it out, but Revya had been heading for the staircase. No one reached it. At the foot of the staircase, a seam opened in the mosaic floor, and the entire floor tilted to the left, tipping over a black pit. Revya lost her footing, her hip crashing against the floor, then she was sliding, desperately trying to keep hold of her sword hilt. A hard, metal body collided with her. The floor was almost vertical. They were falling.

Something broke Revya's fall, something cold that let out a horrible, gassy smell when she hit it. She rolled immediately off it, her shoulders hitting sharp thin bones - a ribcage. There was groaning all around her. Someone was gasping.

The magelight flared. The first thing Revya saw was one of the knights, eyes wide, a sword sticking up through his chest. The knight who'd landed next to him screamed and released the sword. "I - I didn't - he just-"

"Fell onto the sword." Bertram's voice shook. "Pick up your sword, Adin, you'll need it."

"My arm-" one of the knights gasped.

"Daniel's not moving," another said.

Revya struggled to stand, pushing down with her feet. Her heel broke through something brittle and dry, while all around bones jabbed into her skin. She dug down with her foot but couldn't find the floor. The bones suddenly slid under her, and she clawed her way up them, afraid of being buried. The knights' voice came indistinctly all around her.

"I took care of Edar."

"But - it was only a broken arm, he could've-"

"Never have kept up. Maybe these two are better off."

"Gods have mercy on us, do we have to leave them here?"

"They don't know the difference now."

"We need to get out."

"If there's a way out."

"Where's Letra?"

"I think she made it to the door."

"Maybe she'll get help-?"

"Do you think the reaper can hear us?"

"Everyone!" Bertram raised his voice. "We need to calm down. Let's look for a way out."

"What makes you think there's a way out?" Ardis snapped, wiping a trail of blood from her forehead.

Bertram was already moving off, walking carefully through the bones and - yes, more complete bodies. Revya wavered to her feet along with the others, crunching their way after Bertram, the knight mage holding her staff high.

Eventually, they heard Bertram's short laugh, then metal squealing. "The reaper wants to play with his mousies."

"What?" said several voices.

A metal door high in the wall stood open. "It wasn't even locked," Bertram panted. "A bit stiff, that's all. C'mon."

Ardis' voice rasped. "This is going to lead to another trap."

"Absolutely." Bertram clambered through the door. "But we can't stay here."

"I'll go next," Ardis barked before anyone else could offer. They climbed through behind her.

The door led into a humid, dark tunnel, entirely unventilated. Revya rubbed her palm over her sword hilt. It was familiar, making her think of home. This was nothing like home.

She heard a soft click behind her.

Several of the knights had already wheeled before Revya turned around, so they got the facefuls of zombie. Skeletons and corpses poured through the small door. Revya lifted her sword, sending out a bolt of energy, trying to stop them as they spilled through. Bertram was shouting. They were breaking some of the skeletons, but more bloomed through the opening, radiating across the floor, walls and ceiling.

So anyone who could run ran.

Revya felt naked fingerbones claw down her back, her hip. She jabbed out with her elbow, not hitting anything. She could hear the other knights around her, grunts, labored breathing, the clattering tattoo of the skeletons. Someone cried out - she distinctly heard Bertram scream. The magelight had dropped behind. The ground was level, but what were they running towards? Awkward as she sprinted, Revya lifted her sword and shot a beam of light out in front of her -

- just as a small patch of floor dropped away under her feet.

She thought she'd seen spikes at the end of the tunnel. She didn't hear anyone falling after her.

Cold water smacked against her, swallowing her. She kicked out with her back legs, concentrating. Sharp pain jabbed through her forehead, the black sword vanished, and she was able to use her hands. She broke to the surface, blinking around her. There was no light.

She floated on her back, staring at the ceiling, waiting for her heart to stop slamming her chest, trying not to think about how something large and hostile might be sharing this pool. She saw no sign of the tunnel she'd fallen from, nor any of the knights. Nor the skeletons.

The water was cool on her skin, rocking her back and forth, and she wanted to close her eyes and relax. She cleared her throat, as if to remind herself she couldn't, but more to hear her own voice in the darkness. She didn't feel like she was underground. She didn't feel like she was anywhere. She paddled, not allowing herself to hope it would do her any good.

Eventually, after more than a minute, she bumped against a rough stone shore. Revya turned herself over, heaved her dripping form onto the bank - no, it seemed to the floor of a chamber. She glanced up at the unseen ceiling again, whispering a brief prayer for the others. To whom? In times of peril, you were supposed to pray to the Master of Death, asking him to guide your soul safely to the Master of Life.

She doubted that would do much good these days.

She closed her eyes, pain tapping her forehead again, and the onyx blade reappeared in her hands. She tightened her grip and began to walk, her wet sandals slapping against the stone floor. She held her free hand out in front of her, feeling for a wall. She eventually found one and followed it as it began to curve, the floor rising steeply. She had no way of gauging time, but it felt like many minutes before she gashed her big toe open against a stair tread. Revya didn't give herself the luxury of limping, climbing the stairs. Why wasn't she being attacked anymore?

Revya didn't count the stairs. She thought it might do her more psychological harm than good. The stairs had begun to corkscrew. Was she in a tower? No, she couldn't have gone far enough. At least she was going up.

Then she saw a patch of gray light. She hurried towards it, ignoring her smarting foot.

It was one of the twenty three windows, small and unglazed. It looked out to the west. She could see the ragged line of the courtyard wall, some of the wrecked city beyond. It was only ten or so feet from the ground, and she could easily fit through.

She put one hand on the windowsill. A small guillotine dropped from a slot in the windowframe, crashing to the sill below.

Revya had jumped backwards, one hand pressed to her heart. She glanced at her fingers. All there.

With a small grinding sound, the guillotine lifted and retracted into its slot. Revya swallowed, not going to test if it worked a second time. She continued up the stairs.

Almost immediately, she came to a door. She stood in front of it, resisting the weirdest impulse to knock. Right at Death's door... was that what people talked about? Should she laugh?

She rested her forehead against the door, trying to clear her thoughts. Her heart was hammering, making it difficult to breathe. She slipped her hand down the stone door until she found the latch. She twisted it.

The door opened inward, very quietly. On the other side was a threadbare tapestry.

Revya blinked. Oh. It must have been a secret passage then, when this castle had been full of nobles. She slipped around the tapestry, dust clogging her nose for a moment. The room was pitch black. Considering a moment, she sheathed her sword and dropped to her hands and knees, crawling across the floor. The carpet sent up unseen plumes of dirt. Her fingers found a bedpost, then a small footstool, then the cold curve of a chamber pot. Then a doorjamb. She rose and tried it. It stuck a moment, then jerked open.

Hands held in front of her, she eased her way into the hallway. Were her hands shaking? She frowned, trying to make them stop. Her fingers hit the wall._ I'm in the Master of Death's house and all I'm trying to do is not bump into things._

She heard voices.

Revya tensed, looking up. They came from above.

She felt along the wall until she came to another stairway. As she rose, the voices became clearer.

"...hasn't been seen for weeks...displeased?"

"...dead?"

"...Raksha...Madora...couldn't do it without..."

"My lord...testing us."

She saw thin bars of light in the darkness - light shining behind another door. The voices were on the other side.

"Feinne has halted before Elsburgh. The king will have to sue for peace."

"True, but where's Thuris? He's no longer in Mirage, from what I can tell. Have you spoken with him?"

"Ho ho, Thuris may be deviating from my lord's path. It shall not go unpunished."

Revya picked herself off the floor. She'd crouched to see if she could see under the doorjamb. She saw reddish, mellow light, some moving feet. They seemed to be crowded around a table, but she couldn't discern anything else. She drew the onyx blade. Only one thing to do now.

She opened the door.


	4. Chapter 4

4

"_Sleep, my darling child."_

* * *

Five figures straightened as Revya stepped in. She glanced away from them only to assess the parameters of the room - wide, marginally lit by a broad fireplace, fairly uncluttered - before focusing on them again, bracing for an onslaught.

"Who are you?" one man asked, making no move toward her. He was a tall Sepp with a red beard.

Revya had to swallow before she could speak; she hoped it wasn't too obvious. "I need to see the Master of Death."

The Sepp blinked, then looked across the table. "Did you initiate her?"

A shrouded Dracon folded its hands, and after a moment, a woman's voice issued from its hood. "Ho ho, the divine darkness always calls those who are listening."

The Sepp sniffed. "Is she one of your hirelings, Christophe?"

An avuncular man with spectacles leaned around the table to see Revya better. "I admit I don't recognize her, but she might be. Who are you, dear?"

Revya stepped further into the room. There was another door at the far end. "That's not important." She would've felt less nervous if they'd all flung themselves at her and tried to kill her. "I just need to find the Master of Death."

Christophe chuckled. "Well, you can try. As far as we know, he's here."

A squat man with a horned helmet swore. "I haven't seen him for more than two months."

"Oh, faint-hearted," rasped the hooded Dracon. "If you would only open your mind to my bountiful lord, he would always be before you."

"As you say, Kanan," the Sepp said dryly. Then, to Revya: "You're from the outside, aren't you? I'd tell you to head back, but... I don't happen to know the way myself."

Christophe stepped toward her, carrying a candlestick. "If you're hell-bent on finding him, you'll need this." He gave her a cheerful smile before returning to the table. The fifth member, tall with blue hair, rolled his eyes and laughed.

Thanking him didn't seem entirely appropriate. The five at the table watched Revya, and she watched them as she made her way to the door, never entirely putting her back to them. She would've liked to know what they were doing here, but her heart was thudding too hard for her to speak evenly. She opened the door and closed it softly behind her, already looking ahead for a trap.

Candlelight flickered on wooden walls, a painting of a unicorn in a cage. Already Revya could hear the five talking again.

"Something strange about her."

"I've seen that sword before, somewhere. In a book, I think."

"I wonder if she'll find him."

"Maybe he's dead."

"Ho ho, my lord will not let you malign his name."

The candle wobbled in its base as Revya walked, but she had her sword out, so no hand was free to steady it. Many of the rooms she passed proved to be locked. One door yielded, and she stepped into a large ballroom, draped with cobwebs. The skeleton of an animal she didn't recognize lay heaped across a long banquet table. About fifty skulls had been rolled against the wall. She crossed the floor, its design obscured by dirt, and exited by a door on the far side. She didn't care about getting lost. She was here. She would find him eventually.

She didn't find another window until the candle had burned down. She was starving by then, felt almost feverish from hunger and her taut nerves. She discarded the waxy candle-holder and dug around in her damp pack. Her food was still edible, but no longer delicious. As she swallowed, she saw a gray patch in the dark hallway, exuding a pale haze - a window.

Careful not to touch the sill, she studied her surroundings. This window also seemed to face west. The sky was a very dark gray over a bright smear on the horizon - sunset. She was much higher than she'd been before, but by no means at the top of the castle. She'd kept telling herself the interminable length of walking was only in her mind, so she was surprised to see a day had almost entirely passed.

Those knights... _Child, we're fighting a god, _Ardis had said. _We're looking for luck._

Luck. Revya tightened her grip on the onyx blade, then used her free hand to touch her heart. Maybe it would've been nice to rely on something that simple.

The next door she found opened easily. The room was semi-lit by two - _two_ - enormous windows in the far wall, but all Revya could make out was the shapes of furniture. There was also a vast expanse of empty floor. She went in, moving to the window.

"'Sup?" said a voice at the far end of the room.

Revya pivoted, squinting through the darkness. She thought she saw flashing, floating red veins - then she squinted harder. A figure sat in a chair in front of an unlit hearth, surrounded by clutter, his ankles crossed on a footstool. He appeared to be a slight, lanky young man with unnaturally pale skin and hair. The floating red veins - whatever they were - hung on either side of him.

Just how many people lived in this castle? "I'm looking for the Master of Death."

"Mm, really?" the voice came, rather lazily. "He's already bought cookies this year. And if you want his opinions for the local papers, everything's shit."

Revya decided to disregard the tone. "No, I just need to find him."

"Oh, another obsessed stalker. Okay." The youth swung to his feet. "If you're here for revenge, he doesn't give a shit; if you're here to replace him, he'll be happy to evaluate you; if you're here to sell your soul, it better taste good; if you're here to lick his boots, they're shiny already. And no, Slaughterfest 600 isn't going to stop anytime soon, it's in it's eight hundreth season, so why should it? No, he's not going to spare your puppy; no, he's not going to father your love baby; and no, there's nothing you can do to get on his good side. Does that cover it?" He'd stepped into the light by then. The veins were decorations on a pair of black metal gauntlets suspended on either side of his shoulders. His face was tattooed. He barely looked older than she herself.

Revya resisted the urge to step back. The gauntlets disquieted her. "I'm here to kill him."

"Oh yeah, I forgot that one." The man smiled. It was a charming smile, and that didn't make things better. "No, you won't be able to kill him. Are we good now?"

"It doesn't matter." Revya kept her voice steady. "I need to see Vigilance."

The man's smile flickered. He stared at her a moment, his dark eyes narrowed. He extended his left arm to the side. Almost faster than she could follow, the gauntlets had shifted, rearranging themselves over his arm, forming a long red blade. A scythe's blade.

"Tch, you mortals get worse every time. You're even getting my name wrong now."

Revya stepped back. "You're-"

He cocked his head. "You going to finish that? Or is this going to be one of those 'You're - you're - you're-' stuttering things, because those piss me off worse than anything. Now then-" He bent his left arm, raising the scythe. "First things first. The name's Gig. Hear it? One syllable, no v."

"But-"

"And now you're starting with the 'but's. I'll make things easy for you." He adopted a falsetto. There she was, facing the Master of Death, and he was speaking in a falsetto. "'But you _can't _be the Master of Death, you're not wearing any black armor, you're not waiting in the throne room, you don't have a magic ring, you're not covered in snakes, where are the vampire girls?' That's what you were going to say, right?"

"You aren't Vigilance?" Revya demanded.

Again, his face lost its complacency. "Argh, did you not hear me the first time? Hold still." He drew his scythe back.

She skittered out of striking range, hearing him laugh. "But she said-"

"Aw, who lied to the widdle baby? Did someone tell you I was nice?"

Revya gritted her teeth. "Never mind." She lifted the onyx blade in both hands -

- just as the scythe cut her in two.

Heat, more heat than pain, blazed through her. She felt herself topple, then an intense thrumming in her chest, over her heart. Light exploded in her eyes - then the world stabilized itself. She reaffirmed her grip on the blade and pushed off the floor, feeling the muscles in her stomach work perfectly.

The Master of Death stared at her unharmed midsection, then up at her face. "That wasn't the same old, same old."

Revya thought about saying something about how she'd make it painless if he surrendered, but then she decided she'd better not give herself any time to lose her nerve. So she just threw herself at him.

Scythe parried blade neatly. She fell back, gave ground, then lunged sideways into a run, shooting energy from her sword. He laughed, dodging, his scythe detaching from his arm. She was running too fast to follow the movements precisely, but she thought she saw the gauntlets fly to his back. She gained the darkness at the far end of the room, looking for her opponent. At the last moment, she saw a different scythe, longer, swing down at her from above. She ran. A hand caught the back of her jacket and flung her into the air. Her vision whirled like a kaleidoscope. There was a flash of black and red, an explosion of heat, then she and the Master of Death were face to face. She hung suspended in the air, her sword useless in her grip, her blood spilling down, her forehead touching the Master of Death's forehead, and the sharp haft of his scythe punched entirely through her chest.

Gig smiled, kneed her in the stomach, and sent her sliding off the haft, leaving it glistening. She didn't feel herself hit the floor, only the wild thrumming in her breastbone.

After a moment, she picked herself up, wiping the blood away off her sword hilt. She took a deep breath, one hand to her chest, which was unscarred. "All right."

"Friggin' hell, what are you?" The mockery was gone. He swept down, lifted her by her neck, and smashed her face against the stone wall, once, twice. Revya felt the blood, the needles of bone pierce her face, his nails digging into her throat. She felt little pain. There was a swooping sensation, then a blast of cold air. Ah. He'd thrown her out the window.

She landed on the stone road four stories below, unable to move at first. When the thrumming in her chest had stopped, she moved her limbs and crawled out of sight, trailing blood behind her.


	5. Chapter 5

5

"_What is it? What's wrong?"_

"_I - there was a - a-"_

"_Was it a bad dream?"_

"_It just...that dragon you showed me."_

"_Ah, don't worry. The images in my vision pool can't hurt you, dearheart."_

"_But it - its teeth...I dreamed it was eating me and eating me and...I didn't die."_

"_Go back to sleep, little one. No dragons will hurt you."_

* * *

Revya's hands were still shaking. She walked an aimless path through Orviska's streets, not minding the nighttime darkness, not caring about anyone who saw her, her body intact but slick with blood. She took great gasps of air, reassuring herself she _could_ breathe. She touched her heart, her neck, just to feel her pulse.

There were small campfires all around her, but she barely noticed them until she almost walked into one. After a moment, she realized someone had been speaking - "Thought you knew well enough to stay away when you had the chance."

She blinked - even her eyelashes felt heavy with moisture - the play of firelight shifting into the form of a black-robed Dracon. He stood not far from her, his staff held before him. Behind, the other man knelt, his back to her. She could hear something tearing.

"I'm...sorry," Revya said, trying to reassemble her disjointed thoughts.

"I thought you were going to find the Master of Death. It looks like you ran into one of the gangs instead." He turned. "Away with you."

Revya wiped her hand across her face, but since her hand was bloody, it didn't gain her much. "I _did_ meet the Master of Death."

The robes snapped softly as Dio of the Evil Eye turned again. "Don't take me for an idiot. If you had met him, you would have not returned."

Revya sighed; somehow it made her feel better. No less tired though. "He did kill me." She wiped her cheek against the shoulder of her jacket. "Three times." She noticed her hands still shook, so she crossed her arms. Then she noticed the Dracon was studying her.

"You're a human, are you not?"

"Um..." She looked down at herself, as if expecting to find some clue she'd never noticed in seventeen years. She met his eyes through the mask. "Shouldn't I be?"

"Then why are your eyes the color of a Crimson Tear?"

She didn't want to, but she looked away first.

"At first I thought I was mistaken, but you spoke the language of the World Eaters when we met." He stepped just a bit closer. "And the World Masters. Who did you say you were?"

She forced herself to return his gaze. "My name's Revya."

He hesitated, just a moment. Revya thought she saw Gestahl's shoulders tense at her name, but it was Dio who finally spoke. "Revya of what?"

"Nothing."

His upper lip lifted slightly, his thin fingers curling more closely around his staff. Behind him, Gestahl, had risen. At his feet lay a body, covered in shadow.

Revya could almost hear Dio decide to change tact. "Why did you want to meet the reaper?"

"To kill him." She tried for a casual shrug, didn't quite make it. "It doesn't seem that unusual."

"Indeed," he said dryly. "And how is it you're alive?"

"Why do you need to know?" Revya countered, wondering if she'd ever get used to arguing with people.

Dio considered her a moment. "What do you think, my lord?"

The bandaged warrior chuckled lightly, but not pleasantly. "None of us here are strangers to powerful magic."

A bit of a silence followed that one.

"If you managed to escape from the reaper unscathed-" Dio's head tilted as he took in her bloodstains "-you have nothing to fear from us."

Revya stepped closer to the fire, keeping her eyes averted from the corpse. She didn't want to guess what Gestahl had been doing. Robbing it. Probably. The heat from the fire, even after the battle, was welcome, though she kept her eyes on the others. "What are you doing here? You were headed north."

"We've been north," Dio answered. Gestahl turned, kicking the body out of sight before sitting on a slab of rock, his arms crossed and his head bowed. His red sword lay at rest beside him. Dio continued, "If you survived an encounter with the reaper, why aren't you still fighting him? Did you have an amicable cease-fire?"

"He threw me out the window." Revya tried a small smile, but it wasn't returned. "And...it's tiring. But I'll be back." She took a deep breath. _I need to. I just need to try again._

_I couldn't touch him. He didn't destroy me, but I was useless._

A long silence lapsed before Dio spoke again. "The desire to kill the reaper is, as you said, not unusual."

She wished he'd draw closer to the fire, so she could see him better. Or remove the mask. "And?"

Dio glanced at Gestahl. "You may rest yourself at our fire for the night. I wish to speak with you in the morning."

Revya stepped away from the fire. "I'm sorry, but-"

"Of course you don't trust us. But I'm surprised that a child who walked into Orviska castle and came out again is so flighty."

Revya shifted her weight. "Do you think we can help each other, or something?"

Dio seated himself by the fire, laying his staff down. "We will talk about it in the morning."

Revya hesitated, glancing to see where the body had landed. She looked out into the darkness of Orviska, then up at the castle, at the god she hadn't defeated.

Slowly, she sat on the other side of the fire.

* * *

She didn't sleep. Even when she dozed, part of her attention remained on the two men. After an hour, Gestahl rose and stalked into the darkness, not returning almost until dawn. She watched him crouch down and touch a cobblestone, murmuring, "Not long now."

Dio stirred. Perhaps he had felt comfortable enough to sleep. Though she couldn't see his face, she could see that he wasn't surprised she was still there.

Revya blinked, her eyelashes now stiff. Even her scalp was itching from the dried blood. Even if she'd been feeling better, she didn't want to waste time on preliminaries. "So?"

Dio straightened, squaring his shoulders, not as if he had spent the night crouched on a paving stone. "Is my name familiar to you?"

"No. Well, it is now, but..."

"You come from..." There was a delicate, deliberate pause. "...far away?"

"A bit."

"During his reign, the first of the Dio family served Median the Conqueror." Revya still wasn't familiar with the name, but she noted the reverence with which Dio said it. "Until Lord Median was killed by the Master of Life. Shortly after, the first of my line was butchered by the Master of Death." He lifted his chin, regarding the castle a moment. "On those ramparts, my ancestor swore unresting vengeance upon him and promised to restore the world Lord Median had labored to build."

Revya fingered one blood-stiff strand of hair, grimacing. "Why haven't you?" Then she mentally slapped herself on the forehead.

However, Dio didn't leap across the ash-pile and throttle her. But his voice was killingly cool. "My ancestors have not been so fortunate as you."

Revya nodded, hoping it looked sympathetic. She glanced at Gestahl.

Dio didn't make her ask it. "From my ancestor, I have also inherited the honor of accompanying Lord Gestahl." Gestahl raised his head, but didn't meet the Dracon's eyes, looking off into the distance. "Gestahl has no lost love for the god of war."

Gestahl hmphed.

"I see," Revya said, hoping she actually did. "So you think we'd all stand a better chance if we worked together?"

Dio swept to his feet, towering over her. "The Dio family does not often seek help from outsiders. However..." As he looked down, she saw his eyes through the mask for the first time; they were dark. "I cannot let such a chance slip by."

"Do I have to make my decision now?"

"You would do well to."

"All right." She also stood. "For now, we - what's that?" Following her example, Dio also looked up.

Stark against the white sky, a small black shape had just hurtled from one of the castle's towers, shooting northwest across the clouds.

"Speak of the Devil," Dio said, not unexpectedly.

Gestahl had also risen. "He's headed in the direction of Elsburgh."

"Interesting. He hasn't been seen for quite a while."

"Damn," said Revya. "I walked all the way down here, and he's gone in a second?"

"No fear," Dio said smoothly, lifting his staff. There was slash of light, then a crescent-shaped crystal hovered between them. It was deep red.

"That's a-"

"A Crimson Tear, yes. I was waiting on using it, but with you here, I think the time is ripe." Then he shifted to the Celestial language. _"Hear me, unhallowed soul, bend yourself to my will."_

Revya bit her lip as the world swirled, then seemed to fold around them, then was filled with the blinding light of the Crimson Tear. The Tear shattered. She nearly toppled to the ground, which wasn't cobblestone but sparse grassland. A cool wind beat her face. She blinked. The three of them stood at the crest of a hill. To the south, she could see the walls and the rooftops of a city. And between her and the city stood a creature, massive, glittering and dark.

"World Eater Feinne," Dio said softly. "She doesn't appear to have attacked yet." Revya was about to question the pronoun until she noted Feinne's obviously female curves.

"I'd like to stretch these limbs," Gestahl said after a moment, eyeing the monster.

"I would advise against it, my lord. We will want every reserve of strength for the god himself."

Revya scanned the city walls. There was no sign of sentries. Nor, for that matter, could she hear anything except distant birdsong._ The people must all be hiding._ "Why is this city still here? In two hundred years, he hasn't gotten around to destroying it?"

"It's been destroyed twice," Dio replied, "once in 612, again in 723. Each time, the king has sold himself to the reaper to stop the carnage. It's the last surviving city. It's dwindled almost to nothing, but its tribute is still considerable. The reaper obviously feels a need to renew the contract. Orviska," he added, an ugly note catching his voice, "never settled for such terms."

"So what's the plan? Do we just wait here until he shows, or-"

Gestahl's sword, hovering behind him, crackled with energy. A dark figure had descended from the clouds, dropping to rest on one of the World Eater's shoulders. They watched it a moment in silence, but it made no move.

"Our plan is to draw him and his slave away from the city," Dio replied. He closed his eyes and bared his teeth. "What I wouldn't give for a contingent of soldiers. My family's prosperity has indeed sunk low. Nevertheless." Sighing, he opened his eyes and lifted his staff, shifting language. "_Forgotten souls, lost children of Haephnes, call the psychopomp-_"

"Psychopomp?" Revya interrupted.

Dio bristled. "A guide of souls." And so on - "_call the-_"

A scythe cut through the air, blocked only by Gestahl's whirring, floating sword. "You're really struggling to find things to call me by now," the Master of Death commented. He half-leaned back in the air above them, ankles crossed. "Psychopomp? 'Butcher', 'Tyrant' and 'Guy Who Generally Shits All Over Your Hopes and Dreams' not refined enough? Let's have a little lesson in spirituality. I'm not here to guide souls. I'm not even here to winnow the bad souls from the obsessively evil. I'm just here to kill you. So creative titles aren't necessary, but if you want to beg for mercy, please make it original."

Dio drove the butt of his staff into the ground; Revya felt the grassland vibrate. "Do you know who I am, reaper?"

The scythe swung up and behind. Gig hooked his elbows behind it, leaning further back, apparently supported only by that and his gauntlets-turned-wings. "Let's see, black mask, terrible people skills and all-around air of being more intelligent than wise...you must be one of those Dio slugs. Damn, how do any of you live long enough to reproduce? And with you is the customary family bed-warmer, Lord Zombie-bomb or whatever his name is. And-" He straightened, his voice losing some of its complacency. "And it's my little cockroach, come back for more fun. You really don't know how to pick your friends, kid. I've been killing this whiny ass bitch for two centuries."

"You have never faced me before," Dio said, knuckles tightening on the staff. "And this will be your last fight."

The scythe swept into Gig's hand. "I'd tell you not to quit your day job, but I doubt you can get one."

"Enough of this," Gestahl growled. "I remember far more than you, slime." With a roar, he took up his sword, casting fire onto its blade, then sending it high into the air. Revya drew her own weapon but held back, watching the zombie and the god duel. Dio raised his staff, casting a spell. The best she could do at this distance was shoot energy from her sword. She felt rather useless, but she angled her sword up anyway.

It was next to impossible to aim. The reaper and the red sword whirled around each other, the god refusing to land and give them a fair shot at him. Darkness exploded from Dio's staff, making the air shake, making it momentarily too dark to see. She heard a groan - it might have been Gig - but an even louder cry that could only be Dio.

"Lord Med- we must-"

As the darkness finally bubbled away, Revya saw Gestahl grab the heavily-bleeding Dio's arm, and the two of them suddenly vanished.

Revya stared at the place they'd stood, then up at the Master of Death, who wasn't even bruised. "I think you were right about my taste in friends."

Gig leaned back against his scythe again. "Now that we're alone-"

Revya shifted her weight, defensively tilting her blade up in front of her. "How do you know I'm not going to attack you? I still have my sword."

"Yeah, but our last fight proved you lack the skills necessary to fly. So you can shoot light at me all day if you want, but it won't do you any good."

"So get down here and fight me."

He stretched his right arm, rotating his shoulder. "That tends to be my M.O...but I'm not so sure about it now. I'll kill you, and then you'll pop back up again, and then I'll kill you again, then you'll pop up... You're sort of like the neverending perfect toy. But then I think, no, I always get tired of toys, and if I can't get rid of you when that happens, you'll be more trouble than you're worth. So I can't destroy your body. What about your soul?" He smiled "Is that up for grabs?"

Before Revya could begin to be ready for it, she felt a terrible wind rushing through her body, threatening to pull her inside out. Her brain turned over, her entire breastbone vibrated, and the next thing she knew, she was lying in the dry grass, her fingers still desperately hooked around the onyx blade. Gig, however, was coughing violently.

"Okay, it looks like eating your soul's out of the question." He looked down at her. "What the hell are you holding on to? This world isn't _that_ great. Trust me, you'll be happy to be gone."

Revya struggled back to her feet, small petals of dried blood fluttering down from her.

"Seriously, what's your game?"

"I'm just here to kill the reaper." Revya leaned against her sword to steady herself. "That's all."

"Are you as dumb as you sound? Why. The hell. Won't. You. Die?"

An unhappy laugh shook its way out of her. "Why would I tell you?"

There was a long silence after that. Then he shrugged. "Whatever. As long as it works, that's all I'm interested in." Then he swooped down. She thrashed wildly with her sword -

- and missed, apparently, because the next thing she knew, her chest had stopped thrumming and she was face-down on the ground, blood trickling out of her nose. Gig's voice came from above. "There's no way a mortal could cast that sort of magic." As she lifted herself, she felt something cold touch her throat. She leaned back, fast. He was standing over her, hooking his scythe around her neck like a shepherd's crook. He tapped her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

"You from Drazil? Or has this world's ruler finally thrown her ass into the ring?"

Revya didn't answer.

"Hm," Gig said thoughtfully, as though she had given him a full explanation, then jerked his arm back and decapitated her.

When she came to, she was back in the grass, her hand instinctively going to her throat. It felt smooth; no abrasions even. Gig was hovering again, eyeing her curiously. "That is so cool and so very disturbing. Do you know what your head did? It rolled back towards you body and-"

Revya closed her eyes, not listening to the rest, tears of frustration stabbing her eyelids. What was she supposed to do? She couldn't get near enough to fight him, let alone kill him. She took a deep breath, forcing the tears back, body trembling with strain. She struggled to sit up.

Unconsciousness came as a relief.


	6. Chapter 6

6

"_Are you ever lonely?"_

"_What do you mean? You're here."_

"_...Yes, but I'm not exactly like you. Are you ever lonely for someone like yourself?"_

"_You're always saying I'm different from everyone."_

* * *

When Revya woke up, she had no clue where she was. She didn't remember if she'd been killed again - she didn't think she had. So she'd fainted? She felt tired, that much was certain, her muscles aching. A thin cloth was under her. A blanket? She tried to drag her eyelids open, but they were oppressively heavy from exhaustion. She tried again and succeeded, the world blurry at first.

She met a pair of round blue eyes. "Ah!" a voice squealed, too young for Revya to guess whether it was male or female, then the face swooped out of her line of vision and she heard the sound of clacking footsteps, going away.

She moved her eyes, not her head. A low canvas drooped over her, held up by four sticks. There were haversacks heaped around her. The onyx blade lay next to her, her empty scabbard beside it.

Vibrations from heavier footsteps this time. A tall, slim shape entered the tent, knelt next to her, set a basin to one side, and a woman's voice said, "All right there?"

"Um..." Revya struggled to make her limbs work, trying to lift herself onto one elbow. The woman gently pressed her back down, so Revya rolled ungracefully onto her back, the best way to face her helper. She was middle-aged, her skin dry with sharp, thin folds around her blue eyes. After a moment, Revya realized two small horns poked out of her long green hair.

"Don't worry," she said, business-like. "You're a bit of a mess, but you aren't hurt. My name's Atendil."

"Thanks." Even speaking was hard at the moment. "I'm Revya."

Atendil bent to the side, picking up a cloth. "Would you like me to get your face for you?" Revya grimaced, not liking to be taken care of, but nodded. Atendil dampened the cloth in the basin, then set to dabbing Revya's face. "Why are you so bloody?" She frowned. "Was it the World Eater? Did something happen?" Revya didn't answer, and Atendil didn't press it. At least, not directly. "You gave my kids a scare. Serves them right, of course, they aren't allowed so close to the city. They thought you were dead when they first saw you." She smiled faintly. "My daughter carried you here on her back. It was very impressive."

"How long...What time is it?"

"Evening. Are you hungry?"

"Maybe in a bit." Her voice was coming stronger now.

"Mom, does Nandi have the - Oh, she's up! Hey there, how are you feeling?" A slightly smaller shape crowded around Atendil, a Sepp about Revya's age with short green hair. "Damn, I'm glad you aren't dead. You were heavy."

"Sorry. Thanks." Now with two people looking concernedly down at her, Revya struggled to sit up. Atendil handed her the cloth, and she began scrubbing at her arms and hands.

The younger Sepp crouched down. "Did you attack the World Eater or something?" She looked rather hopeful.

"Danette," Atendil warned, though Revya noted that both still eyed her curiously.

"Um, no. I was..." No, if she said she was attacked, they'd ask why she wasn't wounded. "It's not...something I should talk about."

"Of course not," Atendil said crisply, giving her daughter another hard look. Danette seemed abashed, her long ears angling down. "Do you want to rest some more?"

"No." Revya got to her knees too quickly, needing to concentrate so she didn't fall over. "I'm sorry I've given you trouble." Muscles gradually loosening, she sheathed her sword, restrapping her baldric across her chest. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"You can do my chores," Danette said brightly.

"You're welcome," Atendil said, "but I'd feel better if you'd take it easy."

Revya followed the Sepps out of the tent, which had been pitched in the lee of a grassy hill, facing more dry sward. A small blue-haired Sepp - a boy, Revya decided - sat feeding sticks to a fire over which a pot hung. "Nandi, keep Revya company. Danette, go refill the canteens."

Revya lowered herself next to the young Sepp. Though she sat down by the tent to repair a haversack, Atendil kept the two of them well in sight. For his part, Nandi stared at Revya's bloodstains with obvious interest.

Revya had never, not once, talked to a child. She didn't want to sound too doubtful. "How old are you?"

"Four." He drummed his small hooves in front of him. "Can I see your sword?" Revya let him examine the long metal hilt, the three rubies on either side. "Danette never lets me touch her sickles."

"...Well, they're dangerous. I didn't get this sword until I was fifteen."

Nandi pushed out his lower lip and glared at her. "I'm not _stupid_."

"Sorry," Revya said, feeling guilty.

Nandi lifted his chin. "My family's always been warriors." He waited, so she nodded. "My grandpa was Red Lester of Pulkina."

"Um..." She was saying that a lot lately.

"He fought off a World Eater." Nandi hunched his shoulders, his hands forming claws. "World Eater Raksha. He was chasing everyone out of Pulkina, and Red Lester fought him off."

"Very good," Revya said, glancing at Atendil, who was looking determinedly down. "Do you live in Elsburgh now?"

"We're on a vacation." Nandi added another stick to the fire. "Until Feinne leaves. My buddy Len's on vacation too."

"A lot of people evacuated?" Revya asked Atendil.

"While they could," came the reply. "The gate's been barred now, not that it's going to do any good. Trust the king to make empty gestures."

"Are you planning on going back?"

"We'll see."

"All full!" said Danette, skidding down the hill, strapped with full canteens. "I saw the World Eater from the stream. I think she's changed position."

"Where?" Atendil's voice was suddenly sharp.

"More to the west. Maybe she's going to blast the palace."

"Did you see the reaper anywhere?" Revya asked.

"Hmph!" She put her hands on her hips. "He should be glad I didn't." She looked pointedly at her mother, who seemed very intent on rethreading her needle. "I wouldn't _run_ from him."

"Would you rather be in the city, dead?" Atendil asked softly.

Danette discarded the canteens and flopped onto the grass, the large bell around her neck jangling. "I just don't like it. If we're in danger, we should stay and fight." She paused, as if waiting for argument. "That's the problem. The reaper comes and everyone runs. Of course he's not gonna stop. We've made it easy for him. If we all just joined together and fought back, we could defeat him. Dad says-"

"Danette-" Revya could guess by Atendil's voice that this wasn't a new discussion for them "-even Layna the Firebrand and all her armies couldn't defeat him."

Danette shrugged. "Layna the Firebrand. So what? Maybe she wasn't as all-powerful as the legends say. Maybe we have something she doesn't." Atendil sighed and shook her head.

"Who _is_ Layna the Firebrand?" Revya asked. "I keep hearing that name, and I'm - not from around here."

Danette's eyes widened with surprise; maybe Revya had been forgotten for the moment. "According to all the old stories, she was a super-crazy-powerful sorceress queen. Lord Median's daughter. You really don't know this? Well, two hundred years ago, she fought the Master of Death. He shellacked her, then hung her body over the castle ramparts, then made a big slit in it and let the blood drain out. Then some of her followers snuck up and rescued it. I dunno where they buried her. Another story says he ate her, soul and body."

_I believe it,_ thought Revya.

* * *

Revya sneaked out the Sepps' tent that night, when Atendil, Danette and Nandi were asleep. She couldn't lie still. Her constant bursts of energy and fatigue from dying so often seemed to have reset her internal clock. The night was cool, a bit wet, though no rain fell. A large moon cast light over the relatively flat terrain, so she could see well. She headed northwest.

Moonlight slid, rippling over World Eater Feinne's bulk, the narrow torso and the wide, skirt-like flare of metal. Revya approached her, waiting for the crackling of energy to alert her to danger. None came. She found herself able to reach out and touch the smooth metal, the World Eater looming high above her. The metal was warm, almost unpleasantly so, and she could feel flutterings against her fingers, as if hundreds of small hearts beat just below the surface. Revya tilted her head back, speaking in the Celestial tongue. _"Do you remember Resilience?"_

No answer.

"_Can you hear me?"_

Images broke into her mind, tangled threads of thought - red sky, bodies, burning light, a fiery whip, blood stains on alabaster, a knife, butterflies. She thought she heard Feinne telling her to die quietly, but she couldn't be sure, too much of her mind trying to understand the images.

"_I'm not going to fight you. Tell me what you remember."_

An image glowed in her mind, green glades, fruit trees, flowers, white arches. Then it was subsumed in red, the image of a destroyed kingdom.

"_I know those arches. We both remember the garden. Haephnes told me I might have to ask you. You know more about it than she does."_

The scene shifted to a gully loaded with bodies, then Revya had another image of blood splattered against alabaster.

Alabaster, Revya remembered. The alabaster pathways in the garden. But whose blood? Revya considered asking, then thought of all the circuitous memories that Feinne had already shown her. Staying focused would be best. _"Haephnes told me I have to kill Vigilance."_ Heat blazed under the metal, and Revya jerked her fingers back, now touching the World Eater only with her nails._ "But then she told me he was already dead. She didn't explain anything. So I've come here and Vigilance isn't the Master of Death. You were closest to him. Do you know where he is?"_

Finally, Revya heard words in her mind, the voice of the World Eater. _"Bound...soul cut open and festering..."_

Revya looked up, though she couldn't see the World Eater's face from below. Had her question been answered or was Feinne lamenting her own fate? She suddenly felt afraid to ask or even to prolong this strange interview. _"Thank you, Resilience."_ She stepped away, not bothering to ask that Elsburgh be spared. Feinne would probably not remember her in a moment. She wondered if risking Feinne's wrath had even been worth it.

* * *

"So, are you adventuring or something?"

Revya looked up from the pot of soup she was minding. She and Danette were alone at the camp, Atendil and Nandi having gone off to search for supplies. "I guess."

Danette leaned back and nibbled a blade of grass, then swallowed it. "Lucky. I wish Mom would give us a chance to explore, but she keeps saying we have to stay put. Dad said he'd be back after five days, and he needs to be able to find us." She sighed and lay back. "Still, she could let _me_ cut loose. I'm old enough."

"Where would you go?" Revya stirred the soup, glancing at her arm as she did so. That morning, she and her clothes had both had baths in a nearby river. Her clothes were still stiff from the dry blood she hadn't been able to scrub off, but her skin was clean, and that simple fact made her feel remarkably better.

Danette shrugged. "Anywhere, I guess." She picked up another blade of grass, then threw it to the side. "You know, Mom and I have been really nice to you." Revya glanced up sharply, but Danette's tone wasn't hostile. "And we haven't asked what the hell you're doing out here, or why you aren't injured. But when Pop comes, he's going to grill you to into little bacon curls. Just warning you. If you want, you could tell me, and I could tell Mom, and she could tell Dad, and you wouldn't have to go through with it."

Revya smiled - she hoped it was some kind of joke - and said, "Actually, I probably won't be hanging on much longer. I have things I need to do."

"Oh." Danette seemed deflated. "So you'll be heading off? Okay. Listen, I'm going to stretch my legs for a bit, so - actually no, I should stay here. Um, why don't you take a walk or something?"

Revya didn't understand the sudden mood shift, but she understood that Danette wanted to be alone. Also that the family didn't want to leave a stranger alone with their few possessions. "Sure." She rose, slung her sword across her back, and started off to the south. She wondered how long Danette would need. Revya glanced back. Had the Sepp wanted to come with her? They didn't even know each other. Did she just want someone new to travel with?

After ten minutes or so, Revya finally saw flowers in this world. There was a clump of small wildflowers, watery blue in color. She bent down to look at them more closely. Just the sight of flowers made her feel miserably homesick.

"Nice family, huh?" a male voice said softly from not far off.

Revya wheeled around on her knees, reaching for her sword.

"Ooo, flower child, gettin' down with Mother Earth," Gig said. "Are you picking out your grave?" The Master of Death, for once, was not flying, his gauntlets hovering on either side of him.

There wasn't even three feet between them. Revya was afraid to move, wondering if he'd reflexively cut her down. "You've been watching me?"

"Don't pout, a restraining order's not going to do any good. So you've spent a day with the happy little cow brigade. And you spent last night snuggling up to my World Eater. What was _that_ about?" Revya couldn't begin to think of an answer. "You keep sounding off about someone named Vigilance. And Haephnes...there's a name I do recognize. That answers some questions."

Revya hesitated, sorting out her options. Finally, she spoke. "How did you become the Master of Death?"

The reaper's eyes widened as he stared at her in silence for a moment. Then he laughed. "For someone who's apparently so tight with Haephnes, you don't know much. I'm a god. I'm immortal. I've always been the Master of Death."

"No - you have to be chosen. Haephnes wouldn't have-"

"What makes you think I'm Haephnes' bitch?"

Revya blinked. "If you don't belong to this world, why are you reaping its souls?"

Gig rolled his eyes and swung his arm out. In a moment, the scythe had formed and swooped down. Revya recoiled, lifting one shoulder in a futile attempt to block.

But the blow didn't come, only more laughter. "Why the hell did you cringe? Didn't you notice your body keeps healing itself? Damn, for a perfect killing machine, you're easy to mess with."

Revya stood, unsheathing her sword. "Not perfect enough."

Gig cocked his head, smiling in mock sympathy. "Aw, don't be bitter just because you suck. Or is this more of an angsty soul-searching hero moment where you're starting to doubt everything you set out to do and you're wondering if the Old Wizard of the Wandering Mind's prophecy led you astray? Or some other shit from a cheap fantasy novel?" Revya was tired of dying and coming back again, tired of trying to answer him. When she remained silent, Gig cocked his head the other way, as if trying to get a better look at her.

"You do realize that Haephnes has set you up? Even if I stood here and let you come at me, I doubt you'd manage to hurt me. I'm a god, and you're a little redheaded chick with half a shirt on. So you poke me with your black toothpick while I get to bloodlet you whenever I feel like it. Are you atoning for some horrendous sin in your past life or something?"

"You'd know better than me."

He shrugged. "Out of curiosity, _why_ do you want to kill me? Aside from the obvious, of course."

"I don't. Or...not exactly." Revya lifted her eyes. "I'm here to kill Vigilance."

Gig stared at her a moment. "It's official. Haephnes has totally screwed you over."

"Look, she wouldn't lie to me. He's got to be out here somewhere, and - she told me he was the Master of Death."

Gig cleared his throat. "For the repetition of anyone who's hard of hearing, it's _official_, Haephnes has screwed you over and shat on your face. I'm the only Master of Death these days."

Revya turned away, pressing her lips together, fighting a savage urge to run him through with her sword._ It won't do you any good, _she told herself._ Wait a minute, what else am I supposed to do? I'm here to kill the reaper, wherever or whoever he is._

"Anyway," Gig continued, more conversationally, "it's a nice little Sepp family, isn't it?"

Slowly Revya turned back to him.

He really had a lovely smile, and it was really quite awful. "Did I mention I think you're the perfect killing machine?"

Revya glanced to either side, not certain what he was getting at but already sure there was nowhere to run.


	7. Chapter 7

7

"_What's that?"_

"_It's a Crimson Tear, a powerful soul still bound to the living realm. In Prodesto, they're considered cursed, but I think we'll find this one useful."_

"_I'm not sure I like this. If you wanted me used to the idea of not dying, we should've started this a long time ago."_

* * *

"You mean - you want me to-"

"I think you're reading my mind."

"Aren't three World Eaters enough?"

"Please. Wouldn't you get sick of them after two centuries? Feinne sulks, Thuris is a bizarre theorist and Raksha has almost as much charm as a cannonball to the face. I have three monstrous city-shattering, soul-munching golems, but I've never had a minion with Auto-Revive."

The black sword angled up. "I'm not going to be your puppet."

"So uncooperative. Maybe I'll talk to your Sepp friends. I bet a few of their screams will convince you."

Revya bared her teeth a moment; falling back on something as simple and primal as that seemed like the only thing she could do, but she tried to pull herself together. "Listen, just fight me here, you don't need to take hostages."

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that stupid? Or do you just like hearing my dulcet tones? I'm not threatening hostages because I want to fight you. Hell-" he threw his arms out expansively "-I don't have to take hostages at all. It's up to you."

"They're innocent." Revya swallowed. "I won't let you hurt them."

"Great." He crossed his arms. "Though I prefer having my lackeys beg for mercy first."

"What - I - No!"

"No?" he repeated, leaning forward. "So...nix the 'They're innocent, I won't let you hurt them' stuff?"

Revya's mouth worked soundlessly._ Haephnes - why didn't you prepare for something like this?_

"Okay." He rubbed his hands together. "So you're, like, freakishly dedicated, trained in the use of lethal weapons and impossible to kill."

"I-"

He looked in the direction of Elsburgh. "Maybe I'll set up a competition. Who can kill more hysterical nobodies, you or Feinne? Is a five-minute time limit good for you?"

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she was latently surprised the reaper hadn't used that opportunity to attack her.

Gig met her glare with another smile. "I see, you're good for three minutes."

"I'm here to kill the Master of Death." Revya spoke slowly and evenly, wondering if she sounded impressive or moronic. "You just said you're the only Master of the Death. So I'm not going to run around butchering people for you."

"All right, if you don't mind Mommy and Sissy and Widdle Baby Seppy dying because of you."

Revya took a deep breath, but her voice shook slightly. "I can't stop you from killing them. It's your choice, not mine."

"Damn, kid, you're cold. You really gonna let me turn Baby Sepp inside out?"

No pretense of firmness now; her voice was trembling, almost as much as her sword hand. "I can't stop you from doing anything you want to do. I can't even kill you!"

"And you're going to be a heartless bitch about it? Just because some hag sent you down here to kill me? One goal, no options. And you just knuckled under, didn't you? And you're going to do what Haephnes says, even if it means a baby's blood is shed." He laughed. "Real noble. They don't make heroes like they used to."

Revya bit her lip, afraid it would tremble too. She hadn't cried for years, and she couldn't - couldn't now. But - she thought of Nandi, his wide blue eyes, the naive way he'd asked to hold her sword. In a world ruled by the reaper, he still didn't know what death was, and she - she was just going to forget them and try - and fail - and fail again - to kill Gig?

"If you're really interesting in playing the hero," he said, "you should look out for the people who've helped you."

Revya sucked in her breath, staring down at the grass. Then she lifted her head. "You'll spare them if I obey you? And then you'll go tell me to murder hundreds of people in Elsburgh? There are babies there too, you know."

Gig dwelt on whatever disappointment he felt just long enough to grimace, then he raised his scythe arm again. Revya blocked once, twice, trying to transform her frustration and fear into physical strength. She concentrated on the red scythe blade, knowing it was moving too slowly; he was being lazy. Clenching her teeth, she tried to roll her sword under his scythe, hoping for the chance to stab at his chest or stomach. Smiling, Gig rolled his weapon right back over the onyx blade, catching its black length in the scythe's curve. In a moment, the onyx blade's hilt smacked out of her hands as he hooked the scythe around, the entire sword thrown over Gig's right shoulder. It landed behind him, half-hidden in the grass.

Revya fell back a step, her useless hands coming up to her chest, half expecting to feel the thrumming sensation already. She closed her eyes. She'd come back of course, no matter what he did. That didn't mean she wanted to see her blood. Again.

Something wrenched on her hair, sending small lightning bolts of pain through her scalp, then something kicked across the back of her knees. She fell, her thighs hitting something, then she was rushing upwards, wind washing across her face. Her eyes jerked open, and her arms flailed reflexively out, but there was nothing to grab.

Gig abruptly halted their ascent, which almost made her topple again. He still held her hair in one hand; she was sitting on his right leg, and the gauntlets had flared out behind him as wings. "Don't puke on me. Now, see that?"

Revya would've liked to steady herself, but as Gig was the only thing to hold on to, she clamped her hands on her elbows. Gig jerked her head around until she faced Elsburgh.

"Home to several thousand maggots. In all of Prodesto, this is the only real city left. It sucks the rest of the continent like a sponge. This is the only place you're going to find real money. The slave and whore markets are some of their biggest cash cows, and the king would sell every child in the city to insure his safety." He laughed, working his fingers down to clench the back of her neck. Revya stiffened; it hurt, but she was also ticklish there. She couldn't believe she was thinking about that.

"You think this shit-heap is worth saving?"

Revya tried to ignore him, tried. _Should I strangle him? We're close enough. Like I could._

Gig waited another moment, then sighed - she felt his breath hit her cheek, and it was oddly startling, because why should Death breathe? Then he returned his hand to the back of her head and dropped his leg out from under her. The last thing she felt was a fiery skewer of pain as her neck broke.

Then she felt the rush of wind and realized she'd come back and he must have just let go of her.

Then she felt the impact.

Then she felt damp grass under her and someone shaking her shoulders. She rolled over, blinking, bringing one arm up to guard herself. The wind was cold on her wet face - blood-wet, again. Her neck wasn't even stiff. How long had she been out?

"Are you-" the voice, female, was hushed, almost horrified. "You're - what the hell - You really _are_ alive!"

Revya's eyes focused, and she saw Danette leaning over her. "I heard that guy say you couldn't die, but - and then he took you up - and then he disappeared - and then you _fell _- I was gonna try to catch you, but seeing it drove everything outta my head-"

Revya struggled to her feet, searching for her sword. She ran to get it, then ran past Danette.

"Hey, where are you-" Danette had caught up quickly.

Revya couldn't bring herself even to glance over. "Your family-"

Danette lowered her head and quickly outpaced Revya, dust and grass flying behind her. They sped towards the camp. They were almost there. She tried to call ahead to Danette - not sure why - but the Sepp was hurtling, unstoppable. Perhaps it was because she was running so fast that she didn't see what Revya saw: bright against the dull grass, a small red heart.


	8. Chapter 8

8

"_Why do you want me to kill the Master of Death? Is dying bad?"_

"_Death isn't evil, Revya."_

"_But you told me people don't want to die. That they hate it."_

"_Well, death never claims to fairness or sympathy."_

"_It's unfair? You said Vigilance is a good person."_

"_He is."_

* * *

Revya was afraid to offer to help burying Atendil and Nandi. For so long Danette hunched over her mother's body, heedless of the blood. She couldn't hold her brother, for Nandi's body had been slashed apart and strewn across the campsite, mangled beyond recognition. Revya didn't want to believe that this sort of savagery was possible from a rational being, but she couldn't deny what she saw.

"It's not fair." If Haephnes were listening, Revya wanted her to hear. "Why should I be able to come back?"

Danette tensed and looked over her shoulder, tears spilling down her face. Her lids tensed, her eyes bright with anger. Revya took a step back, then another, then turned and fled.

* * *

She ran for a long time. She knew she had nowhere to go, that the grassy plains left her bare to the sky, defenseless against any attack. She knew she couldn't run from what she'd seen, or Haephnes' plan, or Gig's malice. She couldn't run from anything that mattered. But for the longest time, she couldn't imagine herself stopping and struggling to accept it.

Eventually, she slid to her knees. The grass was higher, the stalks brushing against her elbows. She crossed her arms over her stomach, bowed her head almost to her knees trying to contain it. What _it_ was, she wasn't sure. Maybe her grief, or shame. Maybe herself.

Then she got to her feet. There was no use running. She just had to make herself believe that. She hadn't made Gig kill them. She hadn't. He would've killed them even if she had obeyed. There was nothing she could've done.

Revya looked around and had no idea where she was. She should retrace her path, try to find her way to Elsburgh, try to stop Gig.

_Sorry, Haephnes. _

She lay down and tried to rest.

* * *

It was night when she woke. For a moment, Revya studied the peaceful beauty of the sky, then the memories flooded back into her brain. She tightened her lips and pushed herself to her feet. _I have to keep trying_. She swallowed, momentarily afraid she was going to throw up. _I can't ever let that happen again._

_How the hell can I stop him?_

Swallowing, she forced herself to take her bearings and turn back towards Elsburgh. It didn't matter what she found there, she just had to keep going.

Was Gig still watching her?

She'd been walking less than an hour when she felt the air vibrate. She halted, hand already to her swordhilt, watching a dark patch of night bubble and fold in on itself. There was flicker of red light, then two figures appeared in the grass, distinct in the moonlight.

She recognized them, but wasn't ready to lower her sword hand yet.

"You're still alive. I suppose that's not a surprise." Dio of the Evil Eye strode a step forward.

"You're alive too," Revya said. She did not add that _that_ was more of a surprise. Gestahl didn't approach, but she felt his eyes on her.

Perhaps Dio caught the unspoken afterthought, because he said, "I see you have not managed to kill the reaper." Revya tried not to feel anything as he said that, tried not to think that if she had succeeded, Danette's family would still be alive. It didn't work, but at least she didn't cry. "Have you given up?"

"No."

"Then perhaps we should plan our next assault more carefully."

Revya wondered if he saw her eyebrows jump up in surprise. They had - there was no other word for it - abandoned her during their battle with Gig, abandoned her to face him alone. But, she amended, Dio had been badly wounded at the time. And it wasn't as though they had sworn any pact of honor to each other. Of course he would protect himself first.

"All right," Revya said, "what do you-"

Light flared on the horizon, too bright, too fast for dawn. Blue-white brilliance bloomed through the night, dimming the stars, outshining the moon. Then, in barely a heartbeat, it was gone, their light-blinded eyes making the night momentarily empty.

As Revya blinked, she heard Gestahl grunt. "The World Eater's taken Elsburgh."

Dio sighed, but even that sounded haughty. "There's no use remaining here. The reaper won't linger over carrion."

"Where are we going then?" Revya asked, trying not to think of those thousands of people dead. She didn't know any of them. For her, it still felt like two people were dead, Atendil and Nandi. "Back to Orviska?"

"Too far. I don't wish to destroy my remaining Crimson Tears just for travel. We will head southeast, to Madora."

"Why?"

Dio gave her a smile; it wasn't half as charming as Gig's. "There's a World Eater." He began walking. Revya joined him, and Gestahl followed at a distance.

"We're going to attack the World Eater and try to lure Gig there?"

Dio glanced sharply at her. "You are on a first-name basis with the Master of Death?"

Revya opened her mouth to explain, but it didn't seem worth it.

Dio continued. "We may attack World Eater Raksha if it comes to that. Or we may not."

* * *

By the time they rested midmorning, Revya hadn't gotten anything else out of the Dracon. Gestahl didn't rest, merely stood guard as Dio sat down, spine straight, and closed his eyes. Revya leaned back on her elbows and tried to doze. They didn't offer sharing their rations. If Gestahl ate, he looked after that himself, and Dio only had thin waybread. Revya didn't share out her dried fruit.

The terrain had grown more hilly, and it wasn't until late afternoon that they saw the World Eater, his silhouette vague from distance. He seemed taller, bulkier than Feinne, who'd been tall enough. Below him was a ruined city, most of its structures collapsed.

"No one actually lives in Madora," Dio said, gazing down at the ruins. "The community meets there when necessary. I doubt it's finding many reasons to now."

They did not travel south towards the ruins. Rain clouds had been building overhead, so they turned east into the large forest that had once supported Madora's industry. The trees grew high and thick, letting few of the fat raindrops through.

"Where are we going?" Revya asked when Dio continued walking further in. "Shouldn't we just camp and wait it out?"

"Where do you think the people of Madora live?" Dio called back.

Light went fast in the forest. Dio cast mage-light onto the head of his staff, leading them through the twisting, branched darkness. Revya thought he had to be mistaken, delusional even, that anyone lived in here, until she smelled smoke. Then - yes - stew. A cookfire.

A small hut nestled against a tree; looking harder, Revya thought it might have even been built into the tree's massive trunk. A fire, heaped around with rocks, stood in front, cradling a squat pot. A slight figure sat crossed-legged in front of this, dressed in homespun tunic and trousers, his long black hair tied back and a good bit of stubble on his face. He half-turned at their approach, his face betraying nothing as he quietly closed the book he'd been reading.

"I suppose even you rustics are familiar with courtesy due to travelers," Dio drawled.

The man stood, and though he didn't smile or even pretend to be inviting, his voice was still polite. "I'll add more to the stew." He stepped inside the hut.

"That was pretty rude of you," Revya felt compelled to say.

Dio didn't seem hurt by the criticism, settling himself down in front of the fire. Gestahl hung back in the shadows of the trees. Revya sat down, neither close to Dio nor to where the man had sat.

Their host stepped back outside, adding two handfuls of cut potatoes to the stew. He withdrew a long carrot from his sleeve and broke it into several pieces, adding them one by one. Revya's stomach rumbled impatiently, and she hoped no one heard it.

For a while, no one spoke. The man stood over the pot, stirring it occasionally, until he went inside and fetched two bowls. "I only have these," he said neutrally, handing a bowl of stew to Dio, then Revya.

"Be off," Dio said. "We'll call you back when we want you."

Revya widened her eyes.

The man stared at Dio a moment, then turned and walked off into the trees.

"I'm sorry," Revya called after him. "Thank you."

There were no spoons. That didn't stop the stew from being surprisingly delicious, despite Revya's guilt. "You shouldn't have sent him away like that. This is his generosity we're taking advantage of."

"Generosity?" Dio repeated. Revya was heartened to see he looked rather less dignified with a drippy carrot in his hand. "Revya, do you think for a moment that he would've been generous if he'd been able to fight us off?" He ate the carrot. "Never mind your scruples. I think, if we are to work together, it is time you came clean."

Revya slowly put her bowl down.

"I have told you my mission and history." His eyes fixed on her behind the mask. "Why is it you can't die?"

Revya debated what was prudent to say and what wasn't. She knew she couldn't trust them, yet Dio had divulged his own reasons to her. In the bartering of information, she did owe him. "Strong magic," she said finally. "A Crimson Tear."

Dio waited.

"A powerful magician bound a Crimson Tear inside of me, which...holds me to this world. As long as it's in me, it won't let my soul leave my body and return to the cycle. And so...that makes it necessary for my body to be healed every time I die."

Dio hesitated before speaking, as if he too were deciding which words were prudent. "A spell of that caliber would require both a phenomenally strong magician and an exceptional Crimson Tear. Tears are by no means perfect, and they can break easily."

Revya thought a moment. "I don't know who the Crimson Tear was. But the person who placed it in me is very powerful."

"The only magician of that strength and...audacity," Dio said, "was Layna the Firebrand." He watched her carefully. "Who has been dead for two hundred years."

Revya shrugged. "It wasn't her, if that's what you're getting at."

"A soul anchored to an unholy Crimson Tear. Some would consider you cursed."

Revya turned away.

* * *

They left the forest in the morning. Dio offered no thanks to their host, but Revya left one of her remaining dried fruits, hoping he wouldn't think it was poisoned. For the first time, she saw the Haephnes sky less than overcast, patchy blue and white. The grass had caught hundreds of water droplets, giving the hills a hard sparkle, almost like snow.

The World Eater and the ruins were still at a great distance, only shapes on the horizon. The three travelers saw people in the fields and forest, checking snares, digging up potatoes, gathering berries. There were never more than four of them together at a time, but Revya felt reassured. Yes, there was a World Eater, but these people were still scraping a life together.

Then they heard tinkling laughter. Revya turned and saw two large, bounding shapes approaching. She stiffened. Dio turned his head scornfully, and Gestahl hmphed. Sustaining yourself was one thing, but laughing in the shadow of the World Eater was quite another.

As the shapes approached, Revya realized that they were large, blue-gray wolves with riders, the wolves moving in large, cat-like bounds. The faster rider threw her hand back and whooped, her long, light red hair catching the sun. She was holding a wide-brimmed straw hat, and the other rider galloped up, making a grab for it - another girl, smaller with ash blonde hair.

"Shari, you villain! Give it back!" the younger girl demanded, her accent unfamiliar to Revya.

"If you're going to be a bandit queen-" the redhead, Shari, reined her wolf to the side, out of reach "-you need to learn how to steal things back!"

"Oh-!" The younger girl nearly slid out of her saddle as she made a lunge for the hat. "Don't make me trample you!"

"Hold on a minute," Shari said, turning to see Revya, Dio and Gestahl. She lowered the hand that held the hat. "Watch it, Trish. We've got company."


	9. Chapter 9

9

"_Aren't we taking a long time about this?"_

"_What do you mean? We only have a year to make you ready."_

"_Yes, but we can't be the only ones who'll try to kill him. Even if he's a good man, he'll have enemies."_

"_Oh, you're worried someone will beat us to it? Hm. I wouldn't."_

"_Why not?"_

"_He is very powerful. And...in the end, I think that's for the best. I know of no better person to kill him."_

* * *

Trish drew back in the saddle, then seemed to realize what she was doing. She squared her shoulders and put her small chin out, almost glaring at the three of them. Shari languidly put a hand on her hip, though Revya noticed her eyes remained tense. Both women - Trish seemed about Revya's age, Shari a bit older - looked more cared-for than anyone else Revya had seen so far. Though their long jackets weren't ornate, they were clean and well-fitted. Their wolves were glossy and energetic. Trish had a flower behind her ear, and Shari had a short copper chain around her neck.

"Who are you?" Shari demanded. There was nothing shrill about her voice, just a smooth note of command. "I've never seen you around here."

Dio made no effort to hide his sneer. "Stand aside, unless you'll make us walk around you."

"No one's come here for ages," Shari said. She raised a dubious eyebrow. "What, are you going to try taking out the World Eater? That's the only reason people come here."

Dio swept to the side, passing Trish and her wolf.

"If you are," Shari continued, "you'll want to talk to our father."

"I have no time for rustic politics."

Shari curled her upper lip with a haughtiness equal to Dio's. "Sure. But you won't find anyone who knows more about World Eater Raksha."

Dio tilted his head back in her direction, but said nothing for a long moment. "And I suppose your father is a great sorcerer from Drazil who was present when the World Eater was made?"

Shari didn't look fazed, though Trish was rubbing her reins between her fingers, clearly anxious. "Shari," she interposed, "if they don't want to come, they don't have to."

"Father's a researcher." Shari laughed humorlessly, nodding in the direction of the World Eater. "We've been following him for five years now. I can't remember how many time's Dad's gotten hurt, or just barely escaped."

Though she certainly didn't know him well, Revya thought she could see Dio struggling for a moment. Finally he spoke, the proud edge of his voice slipping just slightly. "Perhaps your father may be of some use. Take me to him."

"Huh." Shari leaned back and surveyed Dio from the height of her wolf, though the curve of her lips showed she was pleased with having wrung that out of him. "Pretty important, aren't you? We should just hop to obey, right Trish?" Trish, for her part, chewed her lower lip, then, noticing Revya watching, stopped.

"Do not waste my time with affectations," Dio drawled. "Take me to your father or begone."

Shari reined her wolf around. "I hope you have money," was all she said before she kicked the wolf into a trot.

* * *

The two women led them along the edge of the forest, not ducking inside until they'd gone more than two miles. There was a rough dirt road, probably originally intended as nothing more than a woodsman's path. Shari insisted her little sister ride in front while she took the rear - to watch them, Revya was sure. Trish hadn't relaxed, her slim back straight as she rode ahead of them.

Their house was larger than any of the huts Revya had seen, made of wood. Most of it rested in a small circle of trees, but she noticed ladders leading to small tree houses in three of the trees. The one window-hole even had a pane - of a type. It seemed to be a large sheaf of paper, greased to transparency. Revya tried not to grimace at the flies sticking to it. The tree houses had painted shutters.

"Father!" Trish called out, voice trembling a moment. "We have guests."

A dumpy man with hair the same color as Shari's stepped out. "Shari - Tricia - what's - oh my! Goodness me, a Dracon."

They came to a stop in front of the house. With a ticklish feeling up her spine, Revya realized that Gestahl stood directly behind her.

"You are the researcher?" Dio demanded. "What is your name?"

Shari gave Dio a withering look as she dismounted. "They want to know about Raksha. They're willing to pay tons." They hadn't discussed payment, but Dio didn't react beyond stiffening. Probably protesting was beneath him.

"Ah - yes, er..." The researcher stared up into Dio's mask. "My name is Kenbert. Pleased to make your acquaintance, er...?"

"I am Dio of the Evil Eye." Dio smiled as Kenbert took a step back, then recollected himself.

"Ah, yes, so that must be..." He nodded at Gestahl. "Quite so. And..."

"I'm Revya. Thanks-" she gave Dio a hard look, which he probably didn't notice "-for your time."

Kenbert dry-washed his hands for a moment, glancing around the small crowd. "Well, why don't you come in? Girls, put the phynxes away."

It was a single-room cottage with a round, clay stove in the center. There weren't any chairs, just old, plump cushions. Dio and Revya accepted Kenbert's invitation to sit, but Gestahl stood by the window, looking out. Kenbert set to making tea, his movements quick and efficient.

"I hope I may be of some use to you, Lord Dio," Kenbert said once the tea was ready to pour. The cups were also clay, but someone had taken the time to etch flowers around their rims. "Though I'm sure your knowledge of the World Eaters is considerable. What in particular do you wish to discuss?"

Dio sipped his tea, cocked his head, then took a longer sip. "You are correct that my family has made a study of the behemoths, inasmuch as they bring us closer to the reaper." Behind him, Shari and Tricia stepped inside. Shari made quite a show of lounging on her hip next to Revya and looking bored, but Tricia stood, hovering in the back. "However, our knowledge is limited to their basics. Or, rather, how they kill people." He took another sip. "What beyond that have you learned?"

"Well, World Eater Raksha seems to have a personality," Kenbert said. "I don't say I've ever had the pleasure of talking to him, but he can talk. Quite so. Three years ago, while I was tracking his movements, he encountered World Eater Thuris by the Pulkina ruins. They seemed to get into a bit of an argument. At least, Raksha was pitching fireballs while Thuris was belching a noxious gas. But in the middle of this, I'm sure they were talking - couldn't make heads or tails of the language - and based on how often he laughed, I'd guess Raksha got the upper hand."

Dio drummed his fingers against his knee. "The World Eater's sense of humor was not exactly what I had in mind..."

* * *

Kenbert was fond of lecturing, and Dio seemed to be all patience while he sifted through the stream of information for something useful. Revya's legs twinged painfully, and she went outside to stretch them. Shari had escaped to one of the tree houses, and Gestahl had left some time before.

Revya walked down the forest path, careful not to lose her bearings, moving through the rungs of light that slanted through the trees. Maybe there was a stream somewhere... After all the battles and traveling, she wasn't sure she'd ever feel clean again.

After a moment, she realized someone was walking alongside her. Turning, she came face to face with Gestahl.

She exhaled heavily; she'd been half-expecting Gig.

"Do you know the story of that sword?" Gestahl asked, apropos of nothing.

"Um - no."

She expected him to launch into its history, but he didn't. He waited a long moment, then said, "When we find the reaper, I will kill him."

Revya hesitated. "We'll probably both get fair shots."

"Child," Gestahl said severely, "your mission is as nothing to mine. The reaper is mine to kill."

Revya stopped walking. In the end, what did it matter as long as Gig was killed? Yet...Haephnes had always stressed the importance of Revya's mission, how she had worked to make Revya the one to do it. "We have the same goal. Why can't we work together to do it?"

Gestahl glowered, only a moment. "You were not there when I killed him before."

Revya's eyes widened. "What? How-?"

Gestahl laughed dryly. "Though you may ask if your sword was there."

Revya turned to glance at her sword hilt, peeking up over her shoulder. When she turned back, Gestahl was gone.

* * *

"I think it's foolhardy," Kenbert said the next morning, drawing a pan of cornbread out of the stove. "One World Eater is equal to thousands of soldiers. I don't think there are enough people in the world to destroy all three and the Master of Death."

"You try telling the rebels that." Shari gave a wry smile before biting into an apple. "They're all over the south apparently. 'We're going to kill the World Eaters!' 'We're going to kill the reaper!' Once they hear about Elsburgh, they'll go totally crazy."

"Well, if those radicals come here, we're going to steer well clear of them." Kenbert handed Dio a square of cornbread. The little researcher was still hoarse from last night's rambling, but that didn't stop him from offering Dio more commentary on Raksha. Revya hadn't seen Gestahl since yesterday. Because she was sitting, the onyx blade lay sheathed at her side. She studied it, her brow furrowed, before taking some cornbread.

Kenbert looked up. "Ah, Tricia my dear, there you are." His younger daughter was just stepping in. "You're late for breakfast."

"I'm afraid I slept in," Tricia said breathlessly, removing her gloves. Gloves? Revya looked at Tricia again as she knelt next to Shari. Who put gloves on to come downstairs for breakfast? There was a spot of damp mud on Tricia's skirt, and a few dewdrops clung to her hair.

Revya didn't think she had any right to mention it.

"Did you learn anything useful?" Revya asked, once the three of them had put some distance between themselves and Kenbert's house.

"You would have done well to listen," was all Dio said. It wasn't until they'd come out of the forest before he spoke again. "We must prepare ourselves to meet the World Eater."

Gestahl lifted his chin. "I'm ready."

"We will attack him only as a last resort." Dio regarded Gestahl, then Revya. "Until then, leave matters to me."

Revya might have brought up their last encounter with a powerful being, but she didn't feel it would be wise.

When they were still two hundred yards away from the World Eater, Dio lifted his staff. "Greetings, Lord Raksha!"

The World Eater seemed to be sitting, his crooked legs tucked under himself. For a moment, he didn't move, then his eyes lit with fire, and he slowly turned his head. The hands, which Kenbert had said bore long flaming claws, remained still.

"I have traveled long to meet you, mighty lord. I come not as an enemy but as a supplicant."

Raksha's eyes curved slightly. "Oh, go on. I _never_ get tired of the sniveling."

Even at this distance, the sarcasm was clear. Dio did not hesitate to fall back several steps. Revya knew he already had a Crimson Tear ready to transport with. Skin going cold for a moment, she wondered if she'd get taken along.

Raksha continued. "Don't bother with speech-making either, I know why you're here. You want to screw over my master the bastard."

Dio caught his breath. Revya shifted her weight. Kenbert hadn't said anything about the World Eater being able to mind-read.

"And you want it to be an inside job. You want old Raksha's help. Can't say I wouldn't like to help you." The ground shook as Raksha raised himself to his feet. "But you see, I'm not a very patient killing machine, especially with mistakes. And humans are friggin' useless, when it comes down to everything."

Dio summoned the Crimson Tear.

"Now, I was told to wait here pending further orders," Raksha said, "and, I have to say, it's just the weeniest bit dull. I'm feeling stiff!" Fiery claws sprang into being, a fireball suspended between them. Dio raised his staff. Raksha threw the ball. Revya ran out of the line of fire. Gestahl jumped in front of Dio. The fireball impacted with Dio protected behind the zombie. However, Dio's Crimson Tear shattered.

"Fall back, Dio," Gestahl growled. "This is too much for you."

Dio appeared to agree. While he didn't tear off like a coward, he didn't waste time backing away. Gestahl advanced on the World Eater, his red sword swirling around him. Revya took a deep breath and drew her own blade, stepping closer.

"Oh ho." Raksha's voice remained callous and jovial. "The maggots are back for more. Cold, are you?" He threw his head back and roared, then lunged forward, raking his claws across the ground.

Revya saw many things all at once: Gestahl raising his sword to block; the fire igniting the grass; the hot, oily air; the side of her trousers black with ash. Then she felt a terrible heat, a pounding in her breastbone, and then, for a blessed moment, she felt nothing.

"What the _hell_?" was the first thing she heard as she instinctively rolled into a sitting position, then to her feet, the onyx blade hot in her hands. Raksha loomed high above, staring down first at her, then Gestahl, who wasn't even scorched. "Not even the undead withstand my flames!" He concentrated his next attack on Gestahl. For a moment, the warrior was buried in ash and fire, but when the smoke cleared, he still stood.

"Back away, slave," Gestahl said. "You aren't worth my time."

"I'd heard stories of the Dios' little zombie," Raksha said, more than a hint of a growl in his voice. Then, most unexpectedly, he threw his head back and howled like a wolf - if a wolf were the size of a volcano.

High, high above, the air bubbled. "Ah, does baby Waksha need his Giggy? Has someone been mean?" With a flare of red fire, the reaper appeared.

Raksha seethed, smoke rising from between his fangs, shoulders hunched with reluctant submission. "Master-"

"Having trouble guarding a bunch of grubs in a dinky little forest? What, did they throw rocks at you? Did a bird shit in your eye?"

Raksha spoke between his teeth, his eyes narrowed to bright slits. "Your friends the suicidal Dracon and the undead thug are here."

"And they've pulled down your pants and slapped your ass? Well, seeing as it's you, I shouldn't be surprised." The reaper's dark shape swept down, already angling the gauntlets up as a scythe. "Lo and behold, it's Lord Gas-ass and B.O. of the Evil Eye."

That one earned him quite a few stares.

Gig lifted his eyebrows. "And my new BFF, the amazing human cockroach. I hope you weren't ready to bargain, because I'm going to kill these turds whether you join me or not."

"Gas-ass and B.O.?" Raksha muttered. Not looking back, Gig made a slashing movement with his scythe-arm. A raw, fiery gash opened across Raksha's face.

Gestahl gave Revya a hard, quelling look, then turned to the reaper, raising his sword. "My revenge has festered too long."

"I was really looking forward to you kicking the habit one of these decades."

Revya pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Gestahl glared at her sidelong. "Step back, child."

"Ah no, you should really let her," Gig interrupted. "Have you seen what she can do? She's incredible. The other day, I beheaded her, and her head just-"

"Step _back_," Gestahl demanded.

"This is my mission too." At least her voice didn't shake.

"And chances look good she'll be doing it longer than you," Gig added. "I'm seeing at least three centuries' worth of sneak attacks, pitched duels, grandiose speeches and all sorts of drama." He thought a moment. "And more beheadings. That was freakin' awesome."

Gestahl half-turned, then gathered himself. "My revenge will not be thwarted by a child with a stolen blade." Faster than Revya could've believed, he was on her. Somehow she'd parried, the onyx blade delicate against the red sword, the impact reverberating through her skeleton. She wrenched her sword around, aiming for his stomach, but he blocked, swiping his sword along hers to her face. She fell back, then lunged - was blocked - lunged again.

"Is this a really hard concept for you people?" Gig asked. "You can't kill her."

Gestahl swung - missed her - then drove his shoulder against her. Revya stumbled back, her swordstroke going wide. The sword shoved deep into her stomach, pain exploding in her body, and -

- and the thrumming came, relaxing her and guiding her into momentary darkness -

- and then light flickered on the edges of her vision, which had never happened before.

- and then something inside her shattered.

* * *

When the darkness lifted, she was lying on her back, staring up at a blue-patched sky.

"Back with us, huh? Well, your friends ran, as usual."

Revya prodded her stomach. Of course it was whole and unmarked, but... She turned her head and saw Gig's boots. He stepped one foot over her and looked down at her.

"So this is an impasse, huh? You're not powerful enough to touch me, and I can't seem to scrape you off the underside of my shoe. I think teaming up would save us both a lot of headaches."

Revya barely heard him, trying to chivvy her mind to think more quickly. What had just happened, there with Gestahl? Had-

"Team up?" Raksha's voice came from far away. "What, Gig, are you getting bored with ultimate power?"

Gig slashed the air with his scythe. Revya couldn't see the World Eater, but she heard him cry out.

Had her Crimson Tear...?

She remembered the sharp disintegrating in her chest.

Revya tried to take a deep breath. Couldn't. Tried again. Gig smiled and laid his boot across her throat, not putting any weight on it. "What? Speechless?"

She wasn't used to thinking fast, nor to being in this sort of danger. Her mind jerked wildly from one impossible plan to another.

"You look sick. Oh noez, you were betwayed by your fwiends! How...obvious it was. I mean, I bet even Raksha could tell it was going to happen."

"I-" Only one plan opened itself up to her. Only one plan that seemed like it might work. It didn't hearten her. "Sure," she said after a moment, "why not?"

Gig raised his eyebrows again, but didn't look pleased. "Wait, so you're accepting my offer?"

Revya made her voice come clearly, looking up into his face. "Yes."

Gig put his head to one side. "You think I don't recognize a scheme when I see one?" His foot pressed down on her windpipe. "This is going to be one of these deals where you pretend to play along while waiting for the chance to stab me in the back, isn't it?"

Well, there went that plan.


	10. Chapter 10

10

_"Prodesto is a different place. It may confuse you. It may even make you...forget what's happened here. But there's something you must remember, no matter what happens."_

"_My mission?"_

"_That I love you."_

* * *

"So what?" Revya struggled to keep her voice steady, despite the pressure of Gig's boot on her throat. "You keep saying that there's no way I can touch you."

"True enough, but I'm not trusting this personality 180." He lessened the pressure, then tapped the toe of his boot against her jugular. "I might have a bit of an ego, but I know I wasn't persuading you_ that_ well. Hell, you let the Sepps take the fall just to defy me. And I don't think I've broken your mind yet. So that leaves double-crossing."

Revya gazed past him, up to the sky for a moment. "You forgot desperation."

"Desperation? What do you have to be desperate about? As much as I've tried, I haven't gotten rid of you."

She hoped he didn't see her pulse quicken, sense her heart beating rapidly for a moment. If she could die now - He could _not_ know that. Not unless she told him. Or he killed her and she didn't spring back up. Heh. Wouldn't he be disappointed? Her pulse wouldn't slow down.

"I'm kind of hopeless at the moment," Revya said, not looking fully at him. "I mean, I came here to kill you. I don't want to spend eternity trying to do that one thing."

He smiled sweetly. "Aren't I good company?"

"I'm just saying," Revya went on, out-talking the desire to panic, "I think I've..." She thought back to her previous talk with Gig, internally wincing at the lie. "I think I've been played, and..."

"And you're going to sulk by joining forces with the Slim Grim Reaper?" His smile now showed his teeth, for a moment. "You want revenge?"

Revya raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me you're shocked and appalled."

Finally, Gig stepped off her neck. "Nah, just suspicious."

She realized she was still holding her sword. Slowly, she sat up, her movements oddly careful.

"Heh," said Raksha from high above. Gig glanced up, but the World Eater said nothing else.

"We're ditching this backwater shit factory," Gig said. He waited just long enough for Revya to get to her feet before clamping onto her wrist. "Raksha, you know what your orders are. Oh, and this time, don't be a wuss about them." Before Revya knew he had done anything, the air was swirling around them, oddly hot. Neater than with Dio's Crimson Tears, the swirling sensation broke apart and they stood on the ramparts of Orviska Castle.

Gig dropped her wrist and walked away. "Go amuse yourself. You'll probably have time to try one or two sneak attacks before I figure out the best way to use you."

Revya watched him go, glad he couldn't see her legs shaking.

* * *

It was ridiculous. She kept telling herself this. For seventeen years, she'd been a simple mortal; for a little more than a week, she'd been a creature unable to die. She should be used to one, not the other. But now she found herself fighting back surges of terror when she realized she only had one chance at life. That when she next died, it would be for good. No more special favors.

She needed a plan. A plan better than _Hope_ _I find an opportunity to stab him in the back and hope he doesn't manage to kill me before I get there and it might be nice if he's drunk at the time and, oh, maybe if someone else has already hurt him quite a bit because otherwise there's no way I can do this_.

She walked carefully. What if she tripped coming down these long stone stairs and cracked her head open? What if she didn't look where she was going and tumbled off a rampart? What if she met another one of the castle's traps and couldn't escape? _You can't be paranoid,_ she told herself. But she wasn't sure how long she could fight the urge to abandon all reason and run away.

_You can fight it. You can fight it as long as you have to. Haephnes wouldn't send you to your death._

Haephnes' plan had shattered with the Crimson Tear.

She wandered the hallways aimlessly, eating the last of her dried fruit, trying to guess what would happen next. Gig might tell her to kill some people. How long could she fend that off?

"...have to wonder, what's there to do?"

From above, she heard someone laughing. Revya took the first staircase she could find. It was familiar. Yes, this led to the room where those people, whoever they were, had been. Again, she opened the door without knocking.

The table, which she now saw was spread with maps and several books, had been pushed away from the fire. In its place were two threadbare chairs that had probably been grand when this was still a king's palace. The spectacled man - Christophe, she remembered - sat in one, the blue-haired man in the other.

However, it was the hooded Dracon's voice Revya heard as the dark figure emerged from the shadows. "Ah, another acolyte has joined our number. Welcome, young one, to Death's resting-place."

The Dracon looked like she was about to clasp Revya's hands, so Revya stepped to the side, towards the firelight. "Um...What are you people doing here?"

Christophe tapped his pipe and gave her an arch look.

Revya tried again. "The reaper asked you to come?"

"Of course," the Dracon effused while Christophe laughed.

"Kanan may say differently, but the reaper certainly never invited _me_ here."

"My lord beckoned to me from on high." Kanan raised her hands to the ceiling. "I saw him as he destroyed the last remnants of the Nereid cesspool. What other master could there be?" A long stream of laughter bubbled out of her.

Christophe raised an eyebrow. "He - beckoned - to you, Kanan?" He puffed out his pipe. "I'd bet three cases of wine he flipped you the bird."

Kanan's voice lowered, and her shoulders hunched under the black cloak. "Be happy in your disbelief, infidel. It will make your death all the swifter."

"I admire efficiency," Christophe replied blithely. He turned to Revya. "I don't believe I caught your name."

"It's Revya." She ran her hand through her hair. "So then why _are_ you here? Where are the others?"

Christophe glanced around. "I think Teobalt's trying to find his way out. As for Grimkin..." He shrugged. "I haven't seen him for two days. As for why we're here..." He tapped his pipe again. "I can't speak for us all, but they say the safest place in a tornado is the center."

"I am my lord's faithful slave," Kanan spoke up, though Revya hadn't intended to ask her anything. "As he has guided my soul through death, so will he guide it again. So will he guide yours. So will he guide the world's!" More laughter.

"What about you?" Christophe asked before she had a chance to ask the other man. He held out a tray of crystallized ginger up to her.

Revya reached for one, then drew her hand back. "Where did you get this?" She hadn't seen delicacies of any kind, not in this world.

Christophe smiled. Actually, he almost always smiled, but the smile deepened. "Some people's talent lies in fighting." He nodded at her sword. "Mine does not." Revya had a hunch he didn't mean that he was a gourmet chef. She waved the ginger off.

"The reaper asked me to come here. He wants me to..." She shrugged. "...fight for him."

Christophe raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's unusual." He reached down and plucked a wine glass off the floor. "He's seemed so - Oh, would you like some? Are you sure? Very well then. The reaper's been behaving peculiarly lately."

Kanan laughed, but shortly this time. "If my lord does not share his plans with you, don't call it peculiar, old man."

"The reaper's never spoken once to me. In fact, I can count on one hand the times I've laid eyes on him." He sipped his wine. "But there are other ways to observe a man, even if he is a god."

Revya knew she wasn't skilled enough to manipulate the conversation indirectly, so she just asked, "How have things changed?"

"Until what happened at Elsburgh, the reaper had been quiet for almost a year. And before that, he hardly ventured beyond Orviska. When I was a young boy in the east, there were even those who said he'd departed the world."

"He doesn't seem like he's lost his, er, zest for killing people." She winced, thinking of Atendil and Nandi.

Christophe inclined his head to her. "It's my belief that he was bored." Ignoring a wordless outburst from Kanan, he continued, "After conquering all Prodesto and subjugating most of the people, there can't be much else to do. But now he's gone and made clean work of Elsburgh. From what I've heard, the temples aren't even standing." He took a long draw on his pipe. "Something's shaken him awake."

"Fool," Kanan said witheringly. "His ways would be clear if you were attuned to his will."

Christophe flashed his teeth, his pipe stem stuck between them. "And what _is_ his will, Kanan?"

"It is not my place to divine his mysteries to skeptics like you."

There was a brief silence, then the blue-haired man chuckled. "Divine - mysteries - Ha ha! Skeptics!"

Christophe nodded. "Indeed, Cuthbert." He picked up a slip of ginger, then turned it over in his fingers. "Why don't you take a seat, Revya, and tell us more about yourself?"

"Thanks, but - um - I really need to get my bearings. I'll see you people later." She knew it was impolite, but she was already halfway to the door.

As she stepped out, she heard Christophe say, "I suppose I should reply to Hawthorne's letter. His news about those southern radicals was certainly intriguing. And with any luck, he can get us more ginger."

Revya's wanderings eventually led her to the throne room. It looked as though Gig had once made this his territory during his reign. Countless skulls lay heaped around the throne, which bore deep scour marks. She stepped onto the dais, then faced the room. Tattered banners still hung from the ceiling. There were bullets embedded in the walls.

She walked the length of the throne room, the carpet, threadbare and stiff with ancient brown bloodstains. The doors were opened by a crank, counter-weighted so they could be manipulated by one person. However, the doors were slightly ajar, and she slipped between them. It led down a wide hallway that quickly branched. She took one hall, then turned down another, and third, stepping between two more doors into a large chamber.

There was the gallery she and Bertram and all his knights had attempted to cross...how many days ago? Less than a week. From the balcony above, she could see the faint seam in the floor.

She retraced her steps and took another hallway, the next set of stairs leading down. Eventually, she came to a small door nestled in the side of the castle. She stepped out into the open air.

Revya glanced up at the castle. Well now, should she make a run for it?

She shook her head. At best, she'd evade Gig for a day or so. He'd surely kill her when he caught up, for old time's sake.

So she looked not at the castle, but ahead.

* * *

Beyond the city, she could see Feinne's shape, the World Eater standing quietly. Revya thought a moment, then set off at a jog, skirting the edge of the castle's inner wall. She ran under the gate and into the city. She didn't know the twisting streets, but she made sure she always moved in Feinne's direction, and eventually she found herself standing at Orviska's portcullis. As before, people gathered there, trading, talking, picking each others' pockets. They even laughed. She walked out of the city.

_When I came here, I thought I'd be able to fulfill my mission_. She took a deep breath, trying not to let her heart sink.

A few people were standing outside the gates, pointing and commenting on Feinne. Revya sat down, legs crossed, and waited for night.

When she was fairly sure she wouldn't be seen easily, Revya rose and jogged towards the World Eater. This had been so much simpler last time, with the guarantee that she couldn't be killed permanently. Still, she had no other ideas.

"_Resilience,"_ she whispered up in the Celestial tongue, _"please, speak to me. You're the only one who can help me."_

Feinne stood silent.

Pulse tapping in her throat, Revya stepped close and touched the hot metal. _"Please help me, Resilience. Then we can all be at peace."_

There was a flutter of images in her mind, blasting lights, a night sky, a city. She thought it might be Elsburgh.

"_Tell me what happened to Vigilance."_ Revya thought a moment. _"Haephnes said he's dead, but she also wants me to kill him. She's never said why. Who was he?"_

More flickering images, as quick and random as fire: bodies, a garden, blood on alabaster, a shackled hand.

Revya tensed. She had seen those shackles before. _"Not Gig. I need to know about Vigilance."_

The metal flared with heat, but Revya didn't break the contact. Through Feinne, she saw a sky with blood-colored clouds, Gig beating her with a fiery whip, then Haephnes' garden, quiet and serene. She saw Haephnes herself standing with Resilience as she once was, she saw - Gig? Gig walking with Haephnes.

Revya reflexively drew her hand back. How had Gig entered the garden? He'd admitted he wasn't of Haephnes' world.

She touched the metal again, biting back a cry of pain. _"What about Vigilance?"_

She saw Resilience half prone on the ground, streaming with blood. Gig knelt over her, his face stricken, one hand touching her face.

Then she saw only battlefields and fire, and as much as she pleaded with the World Eater, she was shown nothing else.


	11. Chapter 11

11

"_I wish you'd come with me when I go down there. You know you can."_

"_I'm not sure having you feel protected would be for the best."_

* * *

"...And after seeing the state of things, I really think coming right to the eye of the storm was the most prudent move." Christophe made to pour her some wine, but she waved it off. "It's only my headquarters, actually. I found some rooms on the lower levels that the reaper appears not to have touched. I think they're old closets. And from these, I conduct my mercantile business. It's not the sweetest life, but it does well enough."

Revya frowned at the omelet Cuthbert had cooked for her. "I didn't think there was enough organization left in this world for a business."

Christophe finished pouring Cuthbert's wine. "There are always opportunists." He said the last word as if its negative connotations didn't exist.

Revya forked off the edge of her omelet but didn't raise it to her mouth. "And slaves to power this all?"

Christophe gave her a concerned look, then dug into his own omelet.

Revya wasn't sure she believed the concern. She finally took a bite. The omelet was light and fluffy. "It's very good," she said to Cuthbert.

The cleric shrugged diffidently.

"So," Revya continued to the elder of the brothers, "you must know a way out of the castle. To get all this. The wine and stuff." She'd decided not to tell anyone she'd found a way out on her own. If she could find it again.

"Indeed." Christophe's smile deepened. "I may be the only one here who remembers the way by which he came in." He regarded her a moment. "Play your cards right, and I might just tell you what it is."

Revya looked down to cut her omelet into small pieces. She didn't waste a huge amount of time guessing what card-playing with Christophe might involve. "Um," she said after a moment, "can I take some of these rolls? Thanks, just a...few. Good. Um..."

Christophe nodded as she shoved three rolls in the haversack that she still carried with her. "I understand. Hoarding is something of a nervous habit, but it's excusable in these circumstances." As she got up to go, he continued, "Come talk to me if you feel worried."

Revya left the room with the fireplace and moved down the left-hand hallway. She'd been here less than twenty four hours, but she was beginning to feel comfortable with at least this stretch of the castle.

Rising through the galleries, she found a balcony. She knelt on the stone floor, crossing her elbows on the balcony rail. The wind felt cool but oddly dry. Dust from the northeast had swarmed over the city, hiding much of it. Some lamps and campfires shown out like marshlights.

"Ah..." breathed a low voice, "offering your prayers to my lord? May he hear them and favor you."

Revya leaned her face into her arms and stifled a groan. Then she straightened and stood just as Kanan joined her on the balcony.

"Come," the Dracon continued, "let us worship together."

"I have to go, um, do - something." Revya backed hurriedly into the castle.

To her dismay, Kanan was just as swift at changing tact as she was. "Then let me walk with you, acolyte." She put her hand on Revya's arm. Revya slid her arm away and stepped to the side. "You are new here and must be...acclimatized to our society."

"Um..." Revya walked quickly down the hall. Could she simply outpace the Dracon and leave it at that?

Out of thin air, a large, black dragon materialized in the center of the hallway.

Revya pressed herself against the wall, presenting as small a target as possible as the dragon breathed a flume of fire. Revya used the fire as a cover to draw her weapon, and she blindly made a quick lunge for the dragon's short, relatively thin neck. She felt the blade scrape over the hard scales, then angle point-downward into the soft flesh at the creature's throat. The dragon squealed and raked its claws forward. One made contact, making a long, shallow gash down Revya's leg. She sidestepped, ignoring the pain and the sick feeling of blood trickling down her skin.

The dragon watched her narrowly, its head lowered to protect its wounded neck. Revya considered a moment, then lunged for its face. It brought up a claw to block and strike in one motion, and Revya, expecting this, wrenched her sword around in a slash, biting deep into the dragon's leg. She didn't cut through the bone, but the dragon slumped, unable to support itself on that limb. Roaring, it breathed fire again. Revya just barely dodged, her shoulder crashing against the hallway's too-close wall.

As she rebounded, she made a desperate thrust for the side of the dragon's neck. She overbalanced - her blade crunched into the dragon's body, she wasn't sure where - and she fell against its side. Without really thinking, she used their proximity to drive the sword deeper, twisting it. The dragon's whole body vibrated as it roared, vomiting fire. Revya pushed the sword in deeper. The dragon's scales scraped against the cross of her hilt. It took her a moment to realize the dragon was belching more blood than fire.

Revya waited until the dragon was perfectly still before she stood, pain burning up her leg, braced on foot against the creature's stomach, and wrenched her sword free. Then she fell to her knees, more from the sudden down-surge of adrenaline than agony. She used this as an excuse to clean her sword as best she could on the carpet.

"Truly you are a peon almost worthy of the great lord of death," Kanan effused.

Revya's head jerked up. Kanan stood before her, robe more than a little singed but otherwise unhurt.

"Right," Revya muttered, using her sword for support as she climbed back to her feet. Her right leg, the wounded, trembled but took her weight. She didn't have anything to wrap it with, not unless Kanan offered to rip off a strip of her robe. The Dracon didn't.

Revya limped down the hall, looking for somewhere quiet to collect herself. However, Kanan continued to follow, going on and on about the favor of the gods and the might of the reaper and how she, Kanan, had been blessed a thousandfold in her dedication to him.

Revya randomly opened a door. This probably used to be a sitting room. There was a long, dusty divan, onto which she lowered herself. She lay back, scooting until her injured leg lay across the highest point of the couch, above chest-level. Her skin felt hot, but her sweat was still cold from adrenaline. She closed her eyes.

"Fear not," Kanan crooned, bending over Revya. "If you're dying, you're dying in Death's cradle. Fear not his embrace, as cold as it may be."

"From what I can tell, she's only in danger of drowning in the shit you're spewing."

Opening her eyes, Revya say Kanan cast herself flat onto the floor, face-down. "Oh lord, thank you for shedding the benevolent rays of your light over your abject slave. I-"

"Who are you again?" Gig interrupted, staring down at her. Even he'd drawn slightly back.

"To be forgotten by you is sweeter than life," Kanan rhapsodized. Gig considered a moment, then kicked at her head. Kanon scrambled away, crawling backwards, still bobbing her head in a bow. "I will not anger my lord - I will not demean him with my attention - I ask only that he remember my years of faithful service." As soon as she was out the door, they heard the sound of running footsteps, diminishing.

"I didn't know you had a religion," Revya commented. An ancient blanket had been draped over the divan, and though it was filthy, she wrapped it around her elevated leg.

He shrugged. "One or two. You'd be surprised how many people want to worship someone who oppresses them. Why isn't that curing itself?"

"It doesn't work that way. My body only restores itself once it's been killed." That was true enough, or had been. Once she had something to absorb the bloodflow, Revya fished through her haversack for the packet of medicines Haephnes had given her. She chewed a leaf of bloodbane with purgefell. It wasn't instant like a curing spell, but this would heal her wound eventually.

"So onto the dragon." Gig put his hands in his pockets and looked down at her. "What was with the Little Miss Timidity bit? You should've just gone straight for the dragon's face, fire or not. It couldn't do anything permanent to you."

Revya almost stopped chewing the herbs. "You set that dragon on me?"

"_Why_ are you surprised? Anyway, I was disappointed. If you're going to work for me, I need you to be efficient."

She swallowed the leaves and sighed. "I killed it. That's all that really matters."

"I'll be the judge of that. Killing it would've been impressive for a normal human, but I'm expecting more from my little cockroach."

As Gig frowned down at her, Revya suddenly realized that she was lying on her back, her throat, chest and stomach exposed to any attack. The sword lay at her side, but she doubted she'd be fast enough. She flogged her mind into action. "So - um... I was wondering..." She remembered her encounter with Feinne last night. "Have you ever met Haephnes?"

He cocked his head at the abrupt change in topic. "You still crying over that? Nah, I've never met the celestial wench. Still, I've never heard of a god who wouldn't screw over its creation. Even if she had sent her pet hero out to save the world." He smiled. "You can bet she's laughing her ass off now. I know I am!" And he did laugh.

Revya tried to reason it out. Couldn't. She knew Feinne had shown her two visions of Gig being in Haephnes' celestial garden. In one of them, he'd been talking with the goddess herself. And watching Resilience bleed...

Gig had moved off to the far end of the room, where there was a window. Gingerly, Revya sat up and unwrapped her leg. The bleeding had stopped, though there was still a raw red welt up her skin.

Had Gig been lying?

She slowly stood. Pain snapped up her leg, and Revya steadied herself on the divan.

Maybe Feinne's visions had been inaccurate. Maybe she was confusing her past life with her present.

The tail end of a conversation came back to Revya. After a moment, she stepped away from the couch. She still limped, but the leg was healing well. "Gig?" He glanced over his shoulder, chin lifted, and she realized this was the first time she'd used his name to his face. "How often have you fought with Gestahl?"

"The zombie?" Gig glanced to the side, perhaps racking up a series of mental calculations. "Give or take a few false starts...about five hundred times, I think."

Revya stopped ten feet from him. "Has he ever...well, won?"

"Want me to rip out your tongue, kid?" Gig's eyes tensed. "If he'd won, do you think I'd still be standing here?"

Revya watched the floating gauntlets, but they didn't reform into a scythe. "He told me once that he'd killed you before."

A subtle, soundless vibration passed through the air, through the gauntlets. "Friggin' logic receptors aren't working, kid. I'm _still here_."

Revya quickly back-pedaled. "It must've just been a boast." But she didn't believe that somehow, not for a second. "He was saying that to keep me from trying to kill you. I guess he didn't want help."

"Didn't want you stealing his thunder is more like it." Slowly, the tension was fading from his face. "The zombie dud's been trying to kill me for two centuries. The last thing he wants his some upstart chick coming in and accomplishing it in a week."

"You said I wouldn't have a chance."

"Yeah, but I think we've established how stubbornly delusional the zombie is."

"True." She scrabbled for some other conversation to distract him with. She knew it was only a matter of moments before he decided he wanted her to kill someone...or he decided to limber up by killing her. Maybe she could get close enough to...No, she'd left the sword on the couch. "Did you know there are people living down here?"

He shrugged again. "Squatters. I'll get around to them one of these weekends."

Revya fiddled with one of her earrings, then shifted her weight to her injured leg. It ached dully, and the scar had almost faded. "They're really curious about you. They were telling me all these speculations."

"Yeah?" With a soft swoosh, the scythe formed. Revya braced, sucking in her breath. Gig examined the scythe's red curve, then there was another swoop and it had reverted to gauntlets. "I'm straight, my favorite color's red, and I don't vote for either party."

"They said that you'd been really quiet until now."

"Aw, is the world pining for its undefeated Grand Master of the Slaughter?"

Revya tried to copy the casualness of his shrug. "Does it ever get boring?"

Gig looked at her sidelong, his lips no longer smiling. He didn't look away, and after a moment, he said, "Hell, yeah. People always yap about individuality, but you know what? Most people die the same way. Shitting their pants and willing to do anything to save themselves." He looked away. "Mavericks aren't that common."

And in one fluid motion, the scythe reformed and swept towards her.

Revya swayed to the side, the breeze from the scythe hitting her hip.

"Aw, you're dodging now," Gig complained, but he'd reformed the scythe into gauntlets already.

Revya forced a laugh. "I don't want you to get bored too quickly."

"I suppose not. Speaking of which, I think it's about to time you paid for room and board." He waited until Revya had raised her eyebrow. "I keep hearing rumors of a troupe of freedom fighters in the south. I've been thinking that I should make a personal appearance, give them something to aspire to. And I think it's time for your debut."

"Um-"

"Go get your sword."

"Uh-"

"Go. Get. Your sword."

She got her sword. He'd followed her over. "So-"

"Just think," Gig was saying. "The south. Warm, balmy breezes. White sands. Big palm trees. Screaming multitudes."

"I-"

He grabbed her wrist. "Don't say I never take you anywhere."

They disappeared.


	12. Chapter 12

12

_"I can only guide you so far. In the end, you will make the hard decisions."_

* * *

They landed in a grassy field, starred by small white wild flowers. Gig grimaced. "Obviously, I've been letting this place..."

"...go to seed?" Revya supplied.

"No lip from you." He released her wrist.

"Where are we? I don't see any-" She caught Gig's glare and didn't finish with "palm trees".

"Okay, look over there - no, _there_. See that? That...smudge thing on the horizon."

"Yes."

"Those are the ruins of a crap trap whose name I can't remember. From what Thuris has told me-" Thuris, Revya had been taught, was a World Eater "-some saps are attempting to set up a community there. I don't know if they have any connection to the radicals, but it honestly doesn't matter. I've got some catching up to do with Thuris. Then I think I'll drop in on some of my radical buddies out here. Give them a good long look at what they're up against. When I come back, I want that place empty." He smiled. "And none of this 'take me at the letter of my word' stuff. I want everyone dead, not evacuated. Capisce?"

Revya swallowed and nodded. "I...understand what you want me to do."

"And I recognize the verbal pussyfooting, kid. You don't just understand what I want you to do, you _do_ it." He stepped away from her. "Catch ya later." And with a dark ripple through the air, he was gone.

Revya turned towards the town. There was nothing for it but to run. She had a day at the most, probably much less. There wasn't anything left she could accomplish.

Unless... she could... No...Well, maybe.

Really, desperate plans were all she had now. She might as well capitalize on them.

Trying to think clearly, she started towards the town.

* * *

There weren't trees exactly, but there were scattered bushes on the margins of the ruins, and Revya used those for cover. From what she could tell, the ruins had only just been reclaimed. She didn't see any crops other than wild vegetables, and she didn't see evidence of herds being driven out to pasture. There weren't a lot of people making use of the ruins, about thirty adults and twenty children. They had shovels, one man had a scythe (made, Revya guessed, to destroy nothing more than crops). Three of the men had long knives. Scouting to the rear of the ruins, Revya drew a nervous breath of relief. They had livestock: three cows, fifteen goats and perhaps twenty sheep, penned or either tied to the remains of the village wall.

All right. She made her way to the front of the ruins. She straightened, squared her shoulders, and drew her sword.

As she strode towards them, Revya couldn't blame the stares the people gave her. Both her clothes and skin were still patchy with bloodstains, her short hair disheveled. She came to a stop twenty paces from the gate. And had no clue where to begin.

"Hello," she called out. A crowd had assembled in the ruins, and the three armed men were moving to the forefront. "My name is Revya. I am here to take over your village."

Silence.

One of the knife-men stepped forward. "We don't have time for games, missy."

"Neither do I," Revya admitted. "So this is how it has to work: you either evacuate and leave the village to me, or...I slaughter you all."

"You forgot option three," the man said, withdrawing his knife. "This!" And without another word, he and his two compatriots rushed her.

Revya sent one sprawling with a blast of energy from her sword, and by then, the other two were in striking range. She disarmed one with a sword swing, reversing the movement to club the other in the elbow, effectively breaking his arm. The disarmed one, the leader, fell back several paces, glancing at his friends.

Revya made her voice come coolly. "I want to let you live. But if you won't be helpful, I'll do what I have to do." She turned to the village. "I have in myself the power to destroy you all." She swung the onyx blade up, hands shaking a moment, then down into the ground, channeling energy through it. The ruins hummed in response, causing the townspeople to glance around warily.

"I will give you a half hour," Revya said. "Either leave, or my sword will escort you out." She couldn't help thinking that she was acting ridiculous, but she stuck her swordpoint in the ground and leaned on the hilt, watching.

* * *

They were out in twenty minutes. As the last of them disappeared over the horizon, Revya sighed with relief. She'd never thought she could bluff. If the people had fought back, she would've run, or allowed them to take her prisoner. Bluffs aside, she doubted she had the power to kill all of them - making the air vibrate had been just that, no prelude to a devastating attack. As for the will to kill any of them...

She ran towards the animal pens.

* * *

_I laughed when she told me to take soap. I can't believe it._ Revya gazed at the small cake of soap in gratitude, rubbed it, then ran her sudsy fingers through her hair. The river was cold, but the flowing water felt heavenly. She watched it as it skimmed across her, carrying away the long trails of fresh blood. She dunked her head under the water and came up spluttering, trying to blow water out of her nose.

Somewhat satisfied with the state of her hair, she crept downstream to her clothes, which she'd weighted down with stones. Forcing her shirt out of the water, she frowned. There wasn't any getting those stains out. Sighing, she crawled onto the river bank. She would've liked to lie there and dry off, as she had lain near the streams in Haephnes' garden, but she doubted that would be prudent. Besides, the sun was setting, leeching away much of the warmth.

She was tying the damp laces of her shirt when she heard Gig's voice sing out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Over here." Her voice shook. She flicked her wet hair out of her face, trying to look unconcerned as he stepped over the rise and down to the bank.

"I've seen the ruins. Classic," Gig said, watching her get to her feet. "How long did it take you to build the pyre?"

"Ages." Her arms were aching, not only from hacking down every brush she could find for kindling, but from hacking up...other things. Then dragging said things all over the town, spreading blood-stains liberally, then heaping everything into a pile. Haephnes had told her she was stronger than the humans of Prodesto, but this had strained her to her limit.

"It's a nice touch, but I'd've been just as happy if you'd left everyone out to rot in the sun. It's just a jumble of bones now." He clenched his fist and brought it to his heart. "I wanted to see the horror etched eternally on their faces."

Revya slung her haversack over her shoulder, then the baldric across her chest. "I pulverized the bones all nicely. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Or stakes," Gig was saying. "Tall wooden stakes with the corpses speared on top." He thought a moment. "Set on fire."

Revya bent to smooth her trouser leg, hiding her revulsion.

"Still, for a first try, it didn't totally blow monkey chunks." As Revya gave him a perplexed frown, he took her wrist. "We're heading back now."

Revya waited until they had rematerialized on the ramparts before speaking. "Did you learn anything from the World Eater?"

Gig gave her a contemptuous smile. "Look, kid, you're my minion, not my diary. The only things you need to know are what I want you to do. And what I want you to do is mind your own freakin' beeswax."

"Yeah," Revya said vaguely.

"Don't go thinking we're old chums," Gig went on. "One slavishly devoted fangirl is bad enough. I don't need two."

"Sure," Revya said.

Abruptly, he turned and stalked away. Revya was sent sprawling.

"Oh...right," Gig said, remembering to release her wrist.

* * *

"Got some sun, did you?" Christophe asked when Revya next found her way to the firelit room. He gestured under his eyes and down his nose. "A bit burnt."

Revya shrugged. "Where are the others?"

"Cuthbert's off amusing himself. While you were gone, we found Grimkin's body. Not sure what happened to him. Kanan's taken the corpse, and I'd rather not know why. No sign of Teobalt for four days now. Oh, help yourself. Cuthbert just made them."

Stomach rumbling, Revya picked up one of the eggrolls he offered and vanquished it in a single bite. "What's the letter?"

"One of my messengers brought it this morning." He smiled down at the parchment. "From an old friend. He has quite some news, if you're interested. Try the dipping sauce." He tapped a saucer of pale green liquid toward her.

"What's the news?"

"Perhaps you've heard of the rebels rising in the south? I know from my informants that people have been agitating for some years now - decades, even - but it's really beginning to pick up speed. They've...let's see, two nights ago, they made effigies of the reaper and burned them in the shape of a scythe. Ah, trust Lobo not to leave out the good parts. He doesn't sound too hopeful though."

Revya tried not to grimace at the tart sauce. "Is your friend part of this?"

"Goodness, no." Christophe chuckled. "We're much too wise. He advises us both to lie low for the time being."

"Gi - the reaper said he put in a personal appearance today," Revya mused, taking anther eggroll. "Let the radicals see what they've got to fight. Maybe he's trying to stop them through fear."

"Maybe, by coming out into the open, he's hoping to inspire more people to fight against him," Christophe countered. "A bigger battle. I'm nowhere near the reaper's age, but I know how hard it must be to stir up old blood."

"Raising the stakes makes the game more fun." She bit the eggroll in half. "I see."

* * *

Quite unexpectedly, Gig came upon her when she was eating breakfast one morning. She had gotten it from Christophe, then (feeling a bit as though she was using him) made a quick excuse to leave his company. She sat cross-legged on one of the balconies, her back to the railing, spreading jam on a piece of toast. After a moment, without looking up, she realized Gig had appeared and was standing on the railing above her.

"Do your shoulders always hunch like that?" he asked. "Is it a reflex or do you not like good posture or something?"

Revya talked above the nervous pounding in her throat. "You're so...scary, you know. Just gives me the cold horrors."

He kicked the back of her head. She went flying, her skull splitting open on the stone floor. At least, that's what Revya expected him to do. What he actually did - she felt the air move as he did it - was draw his leg back, swing forward, and stop his foot less than an inch from her neck.

"I don't see any flinching now," he commented, then lightly stepped down onto the balcony. "What is that?"

She was still acknowledging the fact that he hadn't plastered her across the balcony. "Toast."

"No, the shit on it."

She glanced down. "Hotpod jam."

He snorted and walked past her.

"I like it," Revya said, rather lamely, and bit into it. Her heart rate was slowly quieting.

"Great recommendation, that." He stretched, his gauntlets flying out to either side for a moment. "I could use a pick-me-up. A nice robust soul. Last person I ate was the king of Elsburgh, and you wouldn't believe the aftertaste."

Revya grimaced and concentrated on the taste of the jam. After a moment, she realized Gig was watching her moodily, his hands in his pockets. She stopped chewing, hoping there wasn't jam on her face.

"Why so committed to dying, kid?" Gig asked after a moment. Revya swallowed, and before she could speak, he went on, "Don't give me the 'it's my grand holy quest' spiel. Nothing's keeping you here. At least, I know I'm not. It looks like we're never going to succeed in killing each other. And as for you being my minion...Shit." He turned away, thinking a moment, then turned back. "I know you destroyed all those refugees, but when I see that babyass face of yours, I don't always believe it."

Revya reflexively touched her face, hoping it wouldn't betray her. She looked back at him and noticed again that he barely seemed older than she was, and almost as human. It was only an illusion. He'd taken the world two centuries ago. He'd torn Nandi apart. She realized he was waiting for an answer, so she shrugged. "I can't help what I look like."

Gig rolled his eyes.

"I guess the novelty of having me here is wearing off."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Gig replied, covering his thoughtfulness with a smile. "When you're as kickass as me, the world's bound to bore you sooner or later."

"Maybe if you-"

"Maybe if I _what_? Took up interpretive dance? Quilt-making?"

"You're the one who says he's bored. And..." She glanced around the balcony, the hard face of the castle. "I don't really blame you. All you're here to do is kill people."

"You're saying I need a hobby?" Gig stared at her a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "I can see it now. Groovemaster Gigimus Maximus begins his world tour in Orviska. Now promoting his new album 'I Ate the World and Got Diarrhea'." He shook his head.

"So you're not bored?" Revya countered.

"I am not so pathetically bored that I need to take advice from a shit-eating maggot."

Revya had been about to take another bite. She glanced down at her toast. "It's not shit."

"Tell yourself that."

Revya took another bite, waiting for him to stalk off. He didn't. When she looked up, he was watching her again. She glanced at him, then the toast, then him. "If you're hungry, you can have the rest."

The look he gave her was a masterpiece of incredulity. But what he said was, "Eeeew!" The Master of Death was saying "eeeew" to her. "It's covered with your spit! No chance in hell."

Business-like, Revya ripped away the piece that her lips had touched, then held out the pristine half.

Gig stared at the toast narrowly, as though it might explode the moment he let down his guard. Then he shrugged. "Can't be worse than the king of Elsburgh's soul." He took it and stared at it. Revya finished off her piece.

Gig glanced sidelong at her, then closed his fist over the toast. Both erupted in black flames. After a moment, the fire died away, and Gig dropped a pile of ash onto the floor. Revya stared, waiting for him to give an explanation, but he just walked away.

* * *

Whether or not Gig was bored, he didn't speak to Revya again for a week, then two weeks. She didn't even see him. He did keep her primed, sending her monsters to destroy at least once a day. Revya took to glancing over her shoulder routinely and tried not to sleep for longer than two hours at a time. When not fighting for her life (or recovering from her fights; her store of medicine was dwindling), she explored the castle. Apparently, the reaper hadn't bothered to rig most of the upper rooms, probably assuming that no one would ever get that high. She picked a secluded old bedroom as her own. The idea of sleeping on the ancient bed creeped her out, so she cleaned off an old fainting coach as well as she could and used that. She became familiar with a small section of the castle's many galleries and could usually find her way to the communal fireplace without mishap. Christophe was most often there, bringing treats from the outside world. Revya couldn't say she became used to them, Christophe, Cuthbert and Kanan, but she at least learned what to expect from them: jocularity, silence and...Kanan.

She was even wondering if Gig had gotten bored of her and entirely forgotten her when she woke up on the eighteenth morning. She stretched, her stomach bubbly with hunger. She lit the lamp Christophe had procured for her, then stood to leave the room.

A throat was cleared.

Revya moved only her eyes.

A man raised himself from the behind the divan, his thin face lit by the lamp. Revya stared at him. She'd seen him before, but...  
"I don't suppose you recognize me," the man said softly. "And I don't blame you. I had no desire to draw attention to myself when Dio of the Evil Eye and his walking corpse crashed my home."

Revya blinked. "You're that...Yes, you live in the forest by Madora. We...ate your stew."

"I hope you enjoyed it," the man replied, though he didn't break into a smile.

"What's your name?"

"Vitali. And now..." He glanced over to her door. "If you listen carefully, I think I might be able to do more for you than just feed you stew."


	13. Chapter 13

13

_"Do you trust me, child?"_

_"Why wouldn't I?"_

_"...Your answer worries me."_

* * *

Revya braced. She'd been raised by Haephnes, knowing the goddess had a plan for her. That hadn't bothered her until she'd come to Prodesto and seen the reality of killing the reaper. And Gig made plans for her soon after they met. Now it sounded like this stranger had plans as well. "What do you mean?"

"Have you heard of the Vigilantes?" The word _vigilante_ made Revya start, merely because it was so similar to the name that had long been on her mind. Perhaps misreading her reaction, Vitali added, "I don't know where the name comes from, but it's what a large group of people in the south are calling themselves."

"The people who are trying to fight - the reaper?" Revya stopped herself from saying Gig's name. She wasn't sure why.

"Some of them." Vitali glanced at the door, then moved around to the front of the divan, sitting cross-legged at her feet. "The day that we met, I confess that I did not...obey Lord Dio's orders precisely when he told me to leave."

"You eavesdropped." Revya studied his thin face. "I won't say I blame you."

"It seemed apparent that you and he only worked together because of a common goal: killing the Master of Death." He watched her. "And I recently got word from a small ruined settlement called Amalind." Revya frowned, not understanding. Vitali continued, "A group of refugees had only just arrived when a strange, bloodied woman compelled them to evacuate. She said her name was Revya." He paused. "And I'd remembered I'd heard that name before. Only then, that Revya had seemed to want to oppose the reaper. I was bemused, until the refugees told me how she had spared their lives."

Revya looked away.

"So then I wondered, is this mysterious warrior truly a minion of the reaper or only pretending to be one? Is she perhaps held captive by the reaper? Or trying to get close enough to kill him, as she said she wanted to?"

"So you came all the way west to find out?"

Vitali opened his mouth as though to speak - then didn't. Then said, "I don't come entirely on my own behalf."

Revya found herself bracing again.

"I think you'll be glad to know," Vitali said carefully, "that you have many more allies than Lord Dio to choose from."

Revya stood, clasping her elbows. After a moment, she began to pace. "Look - just say why you came."

"I managed to get into Orviska Castle and find you," Vitali said, not exactly following her instructions. "If you like, I can get you out."

"But only so I'll help these Vigilantes."

Vitali inclined his head. "I admit, I wouldn't be comfortable springing the reaper's minion unless I was sure she was on my side."

Revya glanced over. "I know a way out already." She thought she could remember it.

"Ah." Vitali glanced at the door. "Then the sooner I get away, the better. That is...if you don't want help killing the reaper."

Revya stopped in her pacing, biting the inside of her mouth. Despite all her power, she hadn't succeeded...

She remember Kenbert's words: there weren't enough people in the world to destroy the World Eaters and their master.

"I would need," she said after a moment, "a lot of help. Like...thousands of people."

"That's why it seemed prudent to bring you to the army. And we're recruiting more every day. Ever since the reaper made his most recent appearance, killed all those hostages... People have been wild to join."

"That's what he wants, you know," Revya said softly. For the first time, she saw uncertainty flicker across Vitali's face. "He's in it for a joyride."

Vitali collected himself. "Then we should make it a bumpy one."

Revya turned so Vitali couldn't see and pressed her hand to her heart, where she no longer felt the Crimson Tear's thrumming.

* * *

Revya wasn't entirely sure how to get to her exit from her bedroom, so she followed Vitali's lead. "You need to be careful," Revya warned him. "There are traps. The reaper has a nasty habit of dropping dragons wherever I happen to be."

"If it comes to dragons, I'll rely on you. I'm only good for healing."

Though she didn't voice it, Revya was relieved. A healer was what she needed right now.

Revya's nerves were tight with anxiety, but neither trap nor dragon challenged them. Still, she couldn't help worrying that today was the day Gig would summon her, or - worse - appear from nowhere in front of them. But even her nerves couldn't remain tense indefinitely, and after an hour, they'd slackened from sheer tiredness. Until Vitali stopped abruptly in front of her, his hand waving her to be cautious. Revya silently stepped abreast of him.

A black shape lay at the bottom of a staircase, exuding a rotten smell. Vitali leaned forward, casting magical light onto his hand. It was the remains of a Sepp.

_That must have been Teobalt,_ Revya thought. They sidestepped past him into the next hall.

"Saw the poor fellow on the way up," Vitali commented, lightly enough. "It was almost enough to make me turn around."

"Come on," Revya said, not lingering. "I don't want to be seen."

* * *

They made good time. Revya hadn't expected much from the slight healer, but he had stamina. As they trekked east, away from Orviska, Revya accumulated question after question, but held off from asking until that evening when Vitali was soaking the salted meat he'd brought in his small cook pot.

"You said this-" by _this_, she gestured to the two of them, then to expanse of plains around them "-wasn't all your own idea. Who sent you?"

"One of our leaders. Mosley. I told him what I knew about you."

"And you're desperate, so crazy plans are starting to look good."

"I hope we're not desperate yet." He reached for his spoon and stirred. "Mosley also sent some other messengers to appeal to Lord Dio for help. I don't know if his pride will let him, but he and Blazing Gestahl would certainly be assets."

Revya suppressed a shudder. She and Gestahl had not parted well. She was aware again of the emptiness in her chest.

For all her questions, Revya couldn't say she learned a great deal about the Vigilantes - or about Vitali himself - over the next ten days. As they traveled southeast, she began to see more signs of them: a burned effigy of the reaper, a rough recruitment sign ("Head South" was the only direction it gave). The further they went from Orviska, the better the country looked. It wasn't what she could call lush, but grass grew freely and the ground yielded small plants and flowers, many growing among the ruins of cities, walls, the foundations of villages. They passed scattered communities, some of which they entered, Vitali disappearing to speak with people. But he never let them linger.

Revya often glanced over her shoulder as they traveled, back toward Orviska. She couldn't begin to guess what Gig might do once he noticed her absence. Catch up and kill her? Or play a waiting game, upping the stakes?

On the eleventh morning, they started out before dawn. In the half-light, Revya wasn't certain of her surroundings, but she smelled something - unusual. She lifted her head. "What is that?" Vitali glanced back. "That smell."

"It's the ocean." He started walking faster. "Our leaders are meeting in the Nereid ruins."

"Nereids...those are the sea people, right? The women?"

"Yes. They held out against the reaper for a long time, but twelve years ago, he destroyed their palace and grievously wounded their queen." Revya thought she saw him grimace. "Her power to heal is incredible, but she can't use it on herself. She's been dying ever since."

"How do you know all this?" Revya's attempts to pry into Vitali's personal history had all ended in failure, but she saw no harm in trying. "Madora's so far away."

He just smiled. Well, he'd infiltrated Gig's castle. She shouldn't be surprised he was adept at getting information.

When they were walking each with a hand shielding their right eyes, blocking the riotous sunrise, a thin figure appeared on the horizon, then dashed towards them. Vitali must have seen Revya reach for her sword, for he made a warding gesture before calling ahead, "What is it, Levin?"

A young male Sepp, his blond hair disheveled, his body covered with scars and bruises, slid to a stop in front of them. "We've been watchin' for you, Vitali. Mosley sent me out ahead. Is that her?"

"Yes, but I'd like to get out of the open air as soon as possible." He glanced back in the direction of Orviska. It would not take Gig eleven days to reach the Nereid ruins when he came. They followed Levin at a jog. Shortly, the wreckage of a large palace appeared to their right, half-submerged in the water. Revya glanced down at the swinging, foamy waves. She'd never seen an ocean before.

The valley slumped abruptly down to form a bay. Nestled both in this and on the small cliffs were hundreds of tents and lean-tos. Revya swore under her breath. This, if anything, would draw the attention of the World Eaters.

"I'll take you to Mosley now," Vitali was saying, looking around abstractedly. Revya had no clue what distinguished the tent they stopped in front of from any other, but Vitali showed no hesitation. "Mosley?"

She heard a throat being cleared, then - "You're back? Excellent. Just a moment." Revya heard some rustling inside, then a large Sepp pulled himself out of the tent, using a staff to steady himself. As if already knowing what to expect, he looked at Revya, not smiling, one eyebrow raised. After a moment, she realized his eyes were red-rimmed. "She came then. Good." He turned to Vitali. "Find her somewhere to be."

Vitali moved to lead her away, but Revya frowned. "Wait-"

Mosley's mouth tensed as he looked back at her.

Revya didn't know what she'd been about to say. _Would you give me a clear idea of what you want me to do? _But that was obvious enough, they wanted her to fight. Maybe, after being rescued from Orviska Castle, she was just expecting a better welcome. She looked to the side, then back up, but by then, Mosley was already walking away.

Revya stared blankly after him. "What did I do?"

Vitali frowned at the Sepp. "You let his family die."

Before she could feel anything more than a bolt of shock, a mage ran towards them. "Vitali! You're back! The queen needs you, she's in a bad way!"

Vitali set off at a run. Revya hesitated, then set off after him, the mage close behind. Vitali led them splashing into the surf, along a raised sandbar that led them into the ruined palace. Revya didn't honestly think this was any of her business, but after what he'd just said, she was not going to let Vitali out of her sight.

A foot of water carpeted the blue marble hallway, the walls covered with barnacles. Revya ran after Vitali, herring darting through the rooms, away from her. Never looking back, Vitali led her and the mage to a small room inlaid with seashells. Though the mage stepped inside, Revya lingered in the doorway, feeling the wavelets lap against her shins.

The room was crowded with wiry, blue-skinned women, their hands and feet webbed. They stepped aside to let Vitali through, and Revya got a clear view of a low, pearly shelf set in the wall. It was just below the level of the water, so the Nereid queen looked almost as though she lay on the surface. Her skin was paler than the others', oddly waxy, her body sunken, her ribs arching up. Even her blue fish tail lay flat and motionless. Her blonde hair floated listlessly on the water, her eyes closed over deep sockets. She didn't stir until Vitali had forced a medicine down her throat and chanted a spell over her for several minutes. She tilted her head and, not opening her eyes, murmured, "Juno...let her in."

"Queen Alexemia?" One of the Nereids knelt by her side, her voice shaking. "What is it you want?"

"Let...her in."

Several of the Nereids glanced at each other. "Who, your highness?" Juno asked, twisting her hands together.

"Virtuous."

Another Nereid touched Vitali's arm, her eyes wide. "She's hallucinating again."

"Her fever should be going down," Vitali clipped. "Just be patient."

"Virtuous...been so long... You told me you were going to fight the reaper, and I..." She jerked around, as if trying to roll onto her side. "...haven't seen you since."

"Who is Virtuous?" Vitali whispered. All the Nereids but Juno exchanged looks, and the one closest to him shrugged.

Queen Alexemia drew a long breath. "...you're here." Then she opened her eyes, a dull, red color, and looked directly at Revya. "But...oh, Virtuous..."

Revya stepped back as every eye in the room flashed toward her.

"Virtuous..." Alexemia's whisper sounded like a weary sob. "I see you now and... dead...How could you die?...You're - broken... What could kill the Master of Life?"

Revya shook her head both at Alexemia and the others, unsure whether she should even speak.

"I heard...so long ago you died, but I didn't... you must have only hidden... But now...I see you in your...living coffin..." Her eyelids fluttered down. "I..."

Vitali gave Revya another hard look, then cast a quiet spell on the queen. "That should ease her sleep."

"I don't know what we'd do if you weren't here," one of the Nereids murmured, staring hopelessly down at her queen.

"Excuse me," Vitali said, then grabbed Revya's arm and pulled her out of the chamber. "Are you really named Virtuous?"

"I - no, I have no clue what that was all about."

"Vitali!" one of the Nereids called. "Wait a moment."

Vitali glanced back at the chamber and sighed. "Go get yourself some breakfast. We'll talk later." Before Revya could say anything, he'd gone back inside.

She waited in the palace for a few minutes, hoping he'd return, but he didn't. Mind bubbling with questions, she splashed out of the palace, up the sandbar, and back onto the beach. She stopped at the first campfire, which a Sepp crouched in front of. "Excuse me?"

The Sepp turned around. Revya stepped back.

It was Danette.


	14. Chapter 14

14

"_What was that? Such big tears from such a little baby! Who knew you could be so loud? Oh, sweetheart...There, there, stop crying. It's a good thing you don't cry often, it always make me feel guilty. But then...you haven't smiled at me yet either."_

* * *

Danette straightened to her full height, her round eyes narrowing. Revya swallowed, throat dry.

"Don't try to apologize," Danette said, voice quivering a moment. "You're not sorry."

"I-"

"What? Are you sorry now that you've seen my little brother dead?"

"I didn't want-"

"Yes you did!" Danette shouted back, clenching her fists. "You didn't make one move to save them! 'I can't stop you' was all you said! Real great. What a hero."

"I-" Revya's mouth worked wordlessly. She'd been prepared for Danette to cut across her again, and when the Sepp remained silent, Revya wasn't sure what she could say. "I - it would've been wrong to join the reaper."

"Oh, funny! From what I've heard, that's _exactly_ what you've been doing!"

Revya bowed her head.

"Say something! You must've had a damn good reason."

Revya closed her eyes.

"Yeah," Danette said, as if Revya had spoken. "Sure. Letting my family die was the right thing to do. It's all part of some grand scheme." She shifted her weight and kicked sand up into Revya's face, then turned and ran, her hooves flying.

Revya pressed her knuckles between her eyes, beating back the need to cry.

Vitali found her standing there. She wasn't sure how much time had passed. "I thought I told you to eat. Come along." Once he'd set up his tent and cookfire and begun making porridge, he returned his attention to her. "So, what do you want to discuss first, Mosley or Queen Alexemia?"

Revya let her spoon drift in the porridge. "Mosley is Danette's father, isn't he?" She felt Vitali look sharply up. "They... Why does Mosley want me fighting on his side?"

"Because he's strong and practical." Vitali reached into his pocket and sprinkled some herb over his oatmeal. "But that doesn't mean you'll earn his forgiveness."

"Right," she said dully. "So then, the queen?"

Vitali stroked his chin, which he hadn't shaved in two days. "Queen Alexemia is hundreds of years old, and she's met many people in her time. She said this Virtuous fought the reaper. That places her within the last two hundred years."

"Wait," Revya said suddenly, "the reaper's only been here for two centuries. But someone must have guided the soul cycle before that." She looked over at Vitali. "Who?"

The cleric raised his eyebrows. "You'd know as much as I do." And slightly, just slightly, he cocked his head. "We come from the same world, don't we?"

Revya looked away much too quickly.

"It was said," Vitali mentioned after a long moment, "that Median the Conqueror knew the names of the gods." He tapped his chin. "It was probably due to Dio the First's studies."

"Dio," Revya whispered. "Damn."

"Of course, many people have challenged the reaper," Vitali continued, as if not hearing, "so that doesn't really narrow it down. If the queen could only remain lucid, we could just ask who Virtuous was."

* * *

After breakfast, as Revya was crouched on the shore, beginning to realize that she couldn't wash her face with seawater, the healer came to her side. "Mosley wants you."

Revya's movements were oddly jerky as she got to her feet and followed Vitali. Mosley's small tent had been converted into a rough pavilion, the tent canvas raised on tall poles. Mosley sat beneath, talking to several humans, a female Dracon and a Redflank. Danette sat next to him, not in the circle but obviously listening. Her eyes sharpened when she saw Revya.

"Raksha's definitely coming," the Dracon was saying. "He'll be here in two days, tomorrow night maybe. We can't just sit here."

"This is what we want," Mosley countered. "How are we going to kill the reaper if he isn't drawn here? Raksha will be our bait."

"He came on his own last time," the Redflank rumbled. "I don't trust that."

Mosley, glancing over, saw Revya and Vitali, but he only gave a short nod before speaking again. "I think Ben's defense plan will serve us well. We're already moving everyone up to the cliffs and-"

"Still," one of the humans said, "there's nowhere we can retreat."

"We're not here to retreat," another man, blond and covered with burn scars, said.

"What about this secret weapon?" the Dracon said. "When is she - oh." She glanced up at Revya. "Oh."

Revya felt her nerves prickle.

Mosley tightened his jaw for a moment. "I suppose now is the best time to introduce our new recruit."

Revya swallowed. "...Hi."

The scarred man swung to his feet and sauntered over, presenting his hand. "Welcome to the party. I hear you're called Revya." She nodded. "The name's Endorph. From what I hear, you've been giving the reaper a bit of trouble."

"And most importantly," the Redflank broke in, "that you can't die." She thought the look he gave her was skeptical.

Revya's breath caught in her throat. She looked at the Dracon, then Endorph, then Mosley. Then Danette. Her arms were tightly crossed, and she raised an eyebrow when their gazes touched. _That's the only reason you're here, _Revya could imagine Danette saying. _Because you can't freakin' die._

She had to tell them.

"Just in time too," Endorph was saying. "You're going to be our spearhead in this. Do you want to fight the World Eater or make a break for the reaper when he comes?"

"Uh - listen."

"What?" From Mosley, that single word came like a slap. He grimaced, perhaps at himself, and his voice came more reasonably. "Is there a problem?"

"I..." Even though she wasn't looking, she could feel Danette's stare on the side of her face, like the heat from a fire. _I can die now. I haven't killed him. I can't give you any hope. But I did manage to get your family killed._

"Look," she said after a long moment, "you can't...build your attack plan around me." Endorph crossed his arms and the Redflank hmphed, but Revya went on. "I...my only mission is to take the reaper down, and I'm - running out of time." The Dracon glanced nervously at Mosley. "So if you want to factor that into your plan, good, but...I can't really...help..."

Mosley gave a loud sigh. Revya didn't wait to see the others' reactions. She turned and began to walk away. She heard Mosley say, "Kenbert's due to arrive soon. I want you to meet him, Vitali. It looks like the researcher is our last hope now."

* * *

Revya was scouting around the perimeter of the camp, trying to find a way of being helpful without drawing attention to herself. The camp was systematically losing its shape as the Vigilantes moved their equipment away from the shore, onto the cliffs. Revya had just decided she'd pick the next person she saw and ask if she could help them when something wet and cold was jammed into the crook of her elbow.

She jumped and whirled. The phynx yelped and hopped back, crouching low to the ground. After a moment, it tilted its long ears back and wagged its tail slowly.

"Sockum!" a male voice shouted. "Come here - no, don't give the stranger puppy eyes! You _will_ help me carry the astrolabes!" Sockum whined and muttered as a masked male Dracon hurried over, a gold birdcage stuffed with books under his arm. "Now don't give me that. I don't have any sympathy for you." Sockum whined and rolled onto his back, howling piteously. "You do _not_ have a stomachache!"

Revya put her hand on the Dracon's arm. "I'll help you."

The mask turned towards her. "Oh? Oh - really? _Really?_"

"Sure. I don't have anything else to do."

The Dracon waggled his finger at Sockum. "You see that, you phynx fink? Be grateful now, but you won't always get bailed out like this!" He headed off in the direction of a large wagon, piled high with books, trunks, and a roughly-painted chair. After a moment, Sockum barked and bounded after them.

"My name's Odie," the Dracon said. He gestured to the wagon. "We brought this down, but I don't think the phynxes can get it back up again." He sighed deeply. "I'm afraid I'll have to leave some of it behind. But still, I'm salvaging what I can. Oh good, it looks like Vangogh's already carrying up the tea set."

For the next two hours, Revya helped the Dracon move his stuff from the wagon to his relocated tent on the cliffside. Vangogh proved to be a rustic Sepp who was more adept at keeping the phynxes - Sockum and his partner Rockum - in line.

By lunch they were done. Vangogh grilled vegetables over the new cook fire. The phynxes flopped down and allowed Odie and Revya to lean back against them.

Odie removed his mask and mopped his forehead with his long sleeve. "Whew! A bit...time-consuming. But no task is too great for the mighty Odie! No, and certainly not redecorating!"

"What is all this stuff?" Revya asked, gesturing back to the tent, which had been crammed full of Odie's paraphernalia.

"Why..." His long fingers gestured elegantly. "It's my life. My studies. Haven't you heard of me?"

"Um, well..."

"You come from far away," Odie said determinedly. "_Very_ far away." Revya nodded. "Good. Well then, I shall enlighten you. I am the son of a great and illustrious line of magicians dating back more than three centuries." He accepted the vegetables Vangogh passed him, wrapping them in thick bread. "By our studies, by our spilled blood, we have divined the secrets of Prodesto, the interwoven threads of the universe, the great panoply of-"

Revya made up her own sandwich. "So you're like the Dios that way?"

"_Like_ the Dios?" Odie's eyes became perfect ovals. "We _are_ the Dios!"

Revya sat up slightly, making Sockum whuffle. "Oh, you're a Dio?"

"Well - er - don't carry the name, but - but I am of that illustrious ilk." He took a grand bite of sandwich.

"And you've studied their lore?"

"Well, er...some of it is...kept, um, aloof."

"Oh." Revya slumped back with disappointment and nibbled her sandwich.

"Per-perhaps I can still be of help." He examined her. "_Are_ you in need of help?"

"Someone told me that Median the Conqueror knew a lot about this world's gods. I just..." She wasn't quite sure how this would be helpful. But Gig had clearly said he'd only been doing his world-conquering...gig for two centuries. So how had the cycle functioned before that?

Odie fingered his lower lip. "It's true enough. And he learned most of it from my ancestor. It's well-known that he killed the Master of Death."

Revya jerked upright, making Sockum yelp. "Wait - was that two hundred years ago?"

"It would have to be. That's when Median was alive."

"Did - what was the Master of Death's name?"

Odie opened his mouth to answer - then frowned and closed it. He tapped his chin for a long moment, then wordlessly stood and vanished inside his cluttered tent. The tent's ropes strained as he rummaged around, and once it nearly toppled over, but eventually he wedged himself back out, a leather scroll-case in his hand. He checked its tag before sitting down next to her again. "Let's see...this might be helpful." He unscrewed the top and withdrew the scroll. Revya was met by a ream of words she couldn't read. Below was a roughly-drawn diagram, showing two globes, one dark, one light. Both were surrounded by a complex myriad of starlike objects. Each globe had an object inside it: the white one had a basin of water, the black one a scythe.

"Okay," Revya said after a moment. "Master of Death-" she pointed to the black globe "-and of Life." She pointed to the white.

"It's a very old dialect," Odie muttered. "Dio has - I mean, I don't even have the original. This was copied out by one of my great-great aunts. Let's see... _Ashur parted the lake of darkness. With his scythe, he cut his hand, with his blood he filled the basin of life. In the basin he slept and his sleep was death, in death he dreamed and his breath was life..._ No, this isn't right. Let's see... No, this part is the romance of Haephnes and Drazil..." Revya jumped at that but didn't interrupt. "_And from their anger the worlds were sundered_...Ah, yes, here. _In 158, the seeress Deianira, beloved of Haephnes, was dying of_... Damn, it's very hard to read here. Ah, yes..._blood poisoning. In her agony, she was visited by the Masters of Life and Death. She asked if she could know their names, so that when her soul had to travel into the darkness, she would know to whom to call out. Only because of her..._What's that phrase? Oh..._great dedication to the goddess did they comply. The Master of Life gave her name as Virtuous_-"

"Virtuous?" Revya broke in.

Odie looked startled and glanced at the text again. "Yes, that's what it says."

Revya blinked. "That's very..." She shook herself. "I'm sorry, go on."

"_The Master of Life gave her name as Virtuous, and the Master of Death bade Deianira call on the name of...of...Vengeance." _

"Vengeance?"

"No, wait, I read it wrong. Ugh, this is hard to read. _Vuh_ - _vih_ - Hm, maybe Virility?"

"Virility?" Revya repeated, voice rising.

"No, wait - oh! Silly me, it's Vigilance."


	15. Chapter 15

15

"_You're leaving tomorrow. How do you feel?"_

"_A bit...well. I don't know."_

"_It's all right if you're nervous."_

"_Maybe. I'd rather be calm. Or at least look calm."_

"_You do."_

"_I keep reminding myself that you've told me everything I need to know."_

* * *

Revya leaned forward, elbows on knees. She couldn't say the name surprised her, but hearing it confirmed her fears.

"Was that helpful?" Odie asked brightly.

She nodded. Helpful. Yes. Haephnes hadn't been lying - Vigilance was the Master of Death, and he was dead. That also meant that Haephnes hadn't been lying about her mission. So how was she supposed to kill him? Why was she supposed to kill him?

"Why did Median kill the reaper?"

"There are theories." Odie was rolling up the scroll. "His son, Prince Revya, died suddenly as a child. It might've been for revenge." He stopped rolling. "Did you say your name was Revya?"

"Strange coincidences," was all Revya could say. She didn't want to start trying to figure out that new twist, concentrating instead on the haphazard scraps of information she'd gathered. "And then, his daughter - Layna, right? - killed the Master of Life. That would've been Virtuous. But - wait, the queen said Virtuous went to fight the reaper. But...wouldn't that have to be later?"

"Um?" said Odie.

"Sorry." She used two fingers to knead her forehead, then tried to smile at the Dracon. "You've been really helpful. Thanks."

"Oh - er - of course. Thank you for the-" He gestured vaguely at the tent.

* * *

Revya wasn't hiding, exactly, but she deliberately volunteered to help a family of angels repair one of their wagons. She was lying under it, making sure the new axle fit. It was a testament to Vitali's powers of observation that he found her.

"What?" Revya asked, scootching out from under reluctantly. "Mosley can't want to talk to me?"

"It isn't him," Vitali said. "It's the queen. She's awake, and she keeps asking for Virtuous."

"I've found out who this Virtuous might be. Maybe." As they made their way down a narrow cliff-path, she told Vitali what she had learned from Odie's scroll. "But...it doesn't make sense. How could Virtuous be killed by both Layna and the reaper?"

"I think it might not be wise to trust the queen's word," Vitali said after a moment. "At times, her...sickness strains her mind almost to breaking."

It was closing in on evening, and the light in the Nereid Palace was gray-blue. The queen's chamber was no longer crammed full, but her two guards gave Revya nervous looks. Vitali knelt at the queen's side and Revya followed his example.

Queen Alexemia opened her eyes, resting them immediately on Revya. "She's dead."

Revya hesitated. "Your Majesty?"

Alexemia reached out, her cold fingers touching Revya's arm. "She died in you. She died...long ago, but now she's truly gone." When Revya said nothing, Alexemia shifted, as though to raise herself.

One of her guards, Juno, crouched down and put her hands on Alexemia's shoulders. "My queen, don't strain yourself."

Alexemia settled back down, blinking. Revya realized that her eyes, though half-covered by heavy lids, were quite clear. "You don't understand me, child. Did you know what you were carrying?" She glanced around. "Leave us."

"What?" Juno expostulated. "Queen Alexemia, we can't leave you with this - this stranger!"

Alexemia's eyes sharpened a moment. "You have never failed me before, Juno, Minerva. Go." They went, even Vitali. The light played across the water like lines on a map.

Alexemia gazed at Revya. "I...may be dying, but I remember my own magic. And it tells me you bore a Crimson Tear."

"I - yes."

Alexemia closed her eyes - for a second, Revya thought she was falling asleep - then she opened them. "It was my friend. Virtuous."

Revya looked down at her hands, as if expecting to see the shards of the Tear. "The - Master of Life? My Crimson Tear?"

Alexemia had closed her eyes again and not reopened them. "She'd be happy to return to the cycle, if only...Vigilance...hadn't been..."

"Your Highness?"

The queen didn't answer. For the first time, Revya heard her breathing deeply.

* * *

"Watch out! Don't worry, I'll get it." Revya trotted down the cliff path several paces, catching the wayward brush. She walked back up, handing it to the pregnant Sepp.

"Oh, thank you," she said breathlessly, returning the brush to the basket on her arm, then drawing a strand of long blonde hair out her face. "I'm much obliged."

"I'll carry that, if you'd like," Revya offered, simultaneously glancing over her shoulder to make sure none of Mosley's inner circle was in sight. She'd almost run into the Redflank - she'd heard him being called Grunzford - a few minutes ago and had practically sprinted to get away.

"Why, thankya kindly." The Sepp passed the basket over and lifted her skirt free of her hooves. "Just come this way. You with a camp yet? I'll cook you up a nice dinner for bein' so helpful."

"Thanks." She glanced over her shoulder again and followed the Sepp to her tent, responding her casual questions. She seemed to be following pretty much everyone lately, but she couldn't think of anything else to do. Hopefully, one way or another, Gig would come to her. And then she'd either be dying, or...

No. Chances were good she'd be dying.

"Just set that down there. Wonderful. You said your name's Revya? I'm Euphoria. Have a seat. No, I'm quite all right. I may look a bit like a melon these days, but I can still move, can't I?" Euphoria had stirred her cook fire, allowed Revya to feed it some dry twigs to rekindle the blaze, then slung a pot over it. She then proceeded to fill the pot from objects from a large satchel: dried apple slices, sourwort leaves, an egg (she crumbled the shell in, then frowned and picked the pieces out), chives and bits of brown bread. Revya frowned but tried to remain philosophical. Maybe it was local cuisine.

"Hey, Sis!" Euphoria and Revya turned to see Levin, the fleet-footed Sepp, walking towards them. He gave Revya a cursory look. "Ah, you...er, invited a guest?"

"Of course," Euphoria replied, adding a dried onion to the pot. "You know how I love cookin' for company."

"M-maybe you should leave the cookin' to me." Levin bent over the pot, sniffed, then drew back, his eyes watering. "Or even Endorph. You know, when we were recruitin' in the mountains, we got real good at fixin' food for ourselves-"

"Oh, fiddlesticks!" She pulled a fish head from her pocket and added it. "You soldiers are tired from movin' things around all day. It's the least I can do. Is Vitali comin' to dinner?"

"Nah." Levin settled himself down with a resigned glance at the pot. "He's gone to meet up with Kenbert."

"Yeah, we've had to make some new plans." Not turning, Revya heard Endorph's voice approaching. "Our 'secret weapon' backed out on us like a phynx with its tail between its legs, so we've had to - oh."

Revya made herself turn around and look at him. She wasn't sure what sort of expression was on her face. She hoped there wasn't any. Endorph stared down at her a moment, grimaced, then shrugged and sat down on the other side of the fire. "Anyway, yeah, we've been reshuffling the plan. We're hoping Kenbert's come close to figuring out Raksha's weakness."

"Why does it have to have a weakness?" Levin asked, much in the tone of someone who'd asked this many times already. "I mean, it looks like a freakish killin' monster, it acts like a freakish killin' monster, and it kills like a freakish killin' monster. Isn't that all there is to it?"

"Everything has a weakness. Even freakish killing monsters." As if suddenly reminded of something, Endorph frowned and peered into the pot.

"It's almost ready." Euphoria ruffled his hair, then bent and kissed his forehead. "I knew everyone would be tired, so I made plenty. And, oh look, more company!"

Revya turned to see two small shapes with flapping wings blaze by, a high pitched male voice rapidly saying, "I wish we could stop by, yes, mmhm, but Pinot and I need to, uh, we need to uh, we need to, uh, fix the, the, um, the, Odie, we need to fix Odie, I mean he's broken his arm, um, I mean, I bet he's broken his arm, he's so clumsy, he's bound to break his arm sooner or later, so right, bye, we'll stay and eat next time but now we need to get Odie fixed."

Euphoria sighed. "What a shame we can't just sit down and relax of an evenin'."

Revya sat silent while the others talked, trying to look calm and entirely unnoticeable. She was relieved when two people stepped up to the fire, taking any attention entirely off her. "You are Endorph?" the knight asked, his dark armor gleaming dully in the twilight.

"Afraid so." Endorph nodded, then gestured to the newcomers to sit. "Do you have news?"'

They accepted the invitation. The knight was a stern, middle-aged man, his thin black hair pulled back. The other seemed to be his squire, delicate-featured with his blue hair in a long braid. He stared at Revya with interest. No, Revya realized after a moment. He stared at her chest with interest.

"I am Thorndyke, and this is my son Richard."

"Ah," Endorph said. "You're the Thorndyke who leads the Vigilantes in the north? Excellent. We need everyone here."

While they entered a long discussion about the strategy against Raksha, Revya turned to watch the nearby camps. People had clumped into small groups like theirs, talking in low voices. Others kept glancing to the northwest, the direction from which Raksha would come. After less than a minute, she could feel the intensity of someone's stare on the back of her neck. She turned around, meeting the large, long-lashed blue eyes of Richard. He'd sat next to her.

"Do you want something?"

"I'm fine," Richard answered, looking at her chest again. Revya sighed, brought up her knee and leaned her forehead against it.


	16. Chapter 16

16

"_I'm going to miss you when I go."_

"_Maybe for a while. But you'll see so many strange new things, I doubt you'll want to leave."_

* * *

When Revya awoke, her blanket was wet with dew, droplets glistening in the grass. She rolled over and realized that - yet again - Richard had snuggled up against her during the night. This time, he'd even thrown his arm across her waist. That had happened twice already. The first time, she had given him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he'd simply rolled over in his sleep. She'd woken him, and he'd laughed if off, meekly returning to his own blanket. The second time, she'd had her suspicions. She'd woken him again and mentioned that he shouldn't move around in his sleep so much. Maybe she should tell his father...?

So this time, she sat up, jerked her blanket out from under him, and looked to see if Thorndyke was still asleep. She, the knights and Levin had all camped outside of Endorph and Euphoria's tent, and while Levin was still in place, curled into a fetal position, she saw no sign of Thorndyke. Still, he'd left his son. That argued he'd be coming back.

She glanced again at Richard, rolled her eyes, then stood and walked away. Thorndyke could sort his own son out. Revya had suddenly realized that she didn't want to stick around for breakfast. Her stomach was still recovering from the shock of dinner.

She went down to the shore, thinking she'd have another hopeless try at washing her face with saltwater. But as she moved down slope, she saw the shore was crowded by several hundred dark shapes - the Nereids. After a moment, they began to sing, a long, wordless wail.

Word quickly passed throughout the camp, and all day the Nereids continued their lament for Queen Alexemia. Some people speculated what they had done with her body: buried it in the night, weighted it down with stones and cast it into the sea, secluded it in one of the caves along the shore. Around noon, she saw Juno conferring with Thorndyke over battle plans, but most of the Nereids remained at the shore.

The army was trying - at the last moments - to bolster its defenses against the coming World Eater, so Revya spent the day helping to dig pits that might catch one of his hooves. Bombs and Draconic runes lay scattered across the fields leading up to the cliffs. Whirwins and angels scouted overhead. They said they could see Raksha's shape on the horizon. Revya tried to breathe steadily above the churning in her stomach.

She was washing her face in a pail of water - it might be the last time she washed her face - when she heard a female voice. "Hey, have you seen my sister? She's got blonde hair and - oh. Hey." Shari looked down at her, disheveled but no less haughty.

Revya stood, pulling her hair out of her face. "I heard your father was coming. You're going to fight too?" She left the question unspoken: _Does your father have any clue how to save us?_

"Yeah." Shari put her hand on her hip, looking almost bored. "So, have you seen Trish?" When Revya shook her head, the other woman swore. "What's her game?"

"Do you think she's lost?"

Shari gave a short, humorless laugh. "She's not lost. She's up to something." She made a wide gesture. "She didn't leave with us and Vitali last night. Said she wanted to help the family we were staying with and catch up to us later. She never was any good at lying, but we were in such a hurry to get here..." She sighed and ran her fingers through her bright hair. "Maybe it's for the best she's not in this camp." Shari glanced at Revya, and for the first time her eyes were wide with worry. "I don't want her to die, you know?"

* * *

It was a moonless night, but the blazes of Raksha's claws threw wild shafts of light across the darkness. Much to her displeasure, Revya found herself holding back from the assault. Mosley and his leaders hadn't given her a unit to fight in. She wanted to think that was because they knew she had to save her blade for the reaper and not as a deliberate insult. She squinted, trying to make sense of the chaos of light and shadows, flashing weapons, spells, and Raksha's fiery claws and breath. She kept telling herself that she couldn't simply rush the World Eater and attack him. Not anymore. If she did that, she'd never have a chance at Gig.

"Come on!" she heard Endorph shout, somewhere. "Let's show this glorified scrap heap what we're made of!"

A flock of angels swept low over, shooting volleys of bullets at the World Eater. Revya paced. She'd been positioned with a group of other fighters to guard the pyremages. The continual heat from their spells seemed to burn through the back of her neck. Sweat trickled down. Even though the World Eater was nowhere near her, she had the onyx blade drawn.

She already knew they were losing.

"I'm gonna snap your metal neck!" she heard Danette yell. Revya remembered Nandi telling her how his grandfather had faced down Raksha. Had he lived?

Revya raised her eyes, scanning the sky. They weren't hurting the World Eater. This wouldn't draw Gig.

"Fall back, fell beast!" Odie thundered. "The might of Odie the Magnificent shall smite you!"

Raksha would just kill them. She felt something uncoiling in her heart, striking up her chest. Anger. She shook her head. But - why hadn't Haephnes seen this coming? Why hadn't she warned her?

"Raksha!" she heard a woman scream. "Raksha!"

In the tumult, Revya could still see the World Eater tense - then rake his claws across the battlefield. Fighters disappeared in flames.

"Raksha!"

"Get back, all you maggots!" the World Eater roared. "Or die!"

"No!"

"What the hell?" came Endorph's voice.

A woman screamed. It was Shari. By then, Revya was running forward. By now, there were too many people shouting and screaming for Revya to make out individuals. The fighters had stopped in their tracks, staring at the World Eater. Revya darted between them. One man tried to hold her back with a "Watch out!" but she pulled free of him.

"I told you this isn't the way it has to be! If you hate him so much, why are you doing this?"

Revya blinked, needing to stare for several moments before she really believed what she was seeing.

Charred bodies lay smoldering on the field in front of Raksha, though many fighters led by Endorph and Thorndyke had rushed in to fill the gap. Thorndyke was holding onto Shari's wrists, restraining her. A bow lay at her feet, and she tried to lunge forward, her eyes wide with terror.

Raksha took one step back, then another, clenching and unclenching his long claws. His shoulders were hunched.

Between Raksha and the fighters stood a thin blonde girl, her hands on her hips.

"Did you see that?" She wasn't shouting, but her voice was quite firm. "You almost killed me."

"Trish!" Shari gasped.

Endorph took a step towards Tricia, then hesitated, as if unsure.

Raksha growled a moment before speaking. "You shouldn't have rushed into the battle."

"How else was I supposed to stop you?" Even at this distance, Revya could see her chin jutting out. "You wouldn't listen to me before, you - you-"

"...blockhead?" Raksha supplied, hunching his shoulders even more.

"Where is she? Where-" Endorph caught Kenbert as he ran forward. "Trish! What are you - Get away from it!"

"Hold on!" Endorph rasped, staring at Raksha's face.

Tricia glanced to the side, but kept her attention on the World Eater. "You told me you were tired of doing this. You said you hated the reaper. Yes, you _did_. So what are you doing this for?"

"When did - when?" Kenbert spluttered.

Smoke boiled out of Raksha's mouth as he clenched his teeth. "You don't underst-"

"I think I understand pretty well." She crossed her arms. "Father always used to tell me about the fearsome World Eater Raksha and about how I must never go near him. But Father also told me that no one-" she pointed up at him "-_no one_ is created evil! Not even a World Eater. And if you don't want to be the reaper's slave, I don't see why you should be!"

Raksha half groaned, half growled. "Trish-"

"He called her Trish," Kenbert spluttered.

"You've always been so nice to me," Tricia went on. "I didn't mind sneaking out on my father because you were so interesting to talk to. You remember when I thought Shari was going to marry that merchant and leave me all alone? You were so sweet to me and told me not to worry."

Kenbert's spluttering was now wordless. Shari strained away from Thorndyke, but he wouldn't release her.

"And then when the awful Dio was going to attack you, I sneaked out to warn you. I didn't get any sleep that night. I thought you were a good person. But now-" she gestured around the battlefield. "I see that - you were - were a liar!"

Raksha flexed his claws, back arching - then the flames retracted. Darkness fell over the night, lit only by Raksha's flaming eyes. They were lowering - the World Eater was crouching. Revya saw the glint of raised weapons, but no one struck.

"Listen..." Even though Raksha was probably trying to speak quietly, his voice rumbled over the crowd. "I'm a World Eater. This is what I was made to do. I don't...have any other purpose."

"Oh, but you do!" Tricia trotted forward, illuminated. Raksha had lowered his head as far as he could get to speak to her eye-to-eye, and she put both of her hands on his nose. "So what if the blockheads who made you wanted you to hurt people? You don't have to."

Raksha's eyes narrowed. "A World Eater who doesn't hurt people?" He waited a bit. "What else am I friggin' supposed to do?"

Tricia drew back and crossed her arms.

"Sorry," Raksha muttered. "I mean, what else am I, er, supposed to do?"

She uncrossed her arms. "Well, what would you like to do? I've told you before, I think you'd make a wonderful guardian for Madora. Everyone would really appreciate it, and-" Tricia drew back and screamed as a long, fiery whip appeared in the darkness, lashing across Raksha. The World Eater staggered upright, roaring, claws blasting out.

There was a red haze high in the night, Gig at its center. "I don't believe this. Raksha - _Raksha_ - getting talked around by a little girl. C'mon, pussycat, get a grip." Gig raised his hand, and the fiery whip reappeared, beating across the World Eater.

Tricia drew herself up. "I'm not afraid, you, you - coward!"

"I'll get to you in a minute," Gig promised. The whip vanished. "So, Raksha, got anything to say for yourself?"

Raksha was growling, firelight glazing his metal hide red. "Why should I serve you?"

"Hm, good question. Very existentialist. I've got a quick answer." Gig's long scythe appeared in his hands, and he shot towards the World Eater. Fire blazed from Raksha. Revya had to shield her eyes from the light.

Raksha screamed - not roared - a terrible, grating scream. Revya lowered her arm to see the World Eater falling, a wide gash ripped down his side, oozing molten blood. Raksha collapsed onto his side, not moving.

Gig was laughing, sweeping away from the World Eater's form to just above ground level, in easy range of the Vigilantes' weapons. Tricia had fallen to her knees, her eyes wide and aghast.

"Aw, I never thought I'd see anyone cry for Raksha," Gig said.

Tricia narrowed her eyes. "You - I'm not afraid-"

"Then you're stu-" But Gig caught sight of Revya then, running towards him, sword raised. He waited for her to get in range, then easily parried the attack, scythe glittering. "Well, it's my little cockroach, here to kill Public Enemy Number One. How could you backstab me, darling? I thought we had something special!"

Revya raised her sword again. She wasn't going to try to talk, she was just going to-

"Damn you." She heard a low voice behind her. "Get out of the way."

She didn't dare turn around, but Gig glanced past her. "Ah, and it's the Dracon and the zombie. Tch, I can't go anywhere without being mobbed by groupies."

"Get out of the way," she heard Gestahl again, could almost feel his glare upon her. "Unless you want me to cut you down."

Then she heard Dio chanting, felt a wave a dark energy: _"...send him beyond the reach of man, beyond the reach of gods, to the land where none shall free him-"_

She could hear Gestahl running behind her, closing in on her. Maybe she cried out - maybe not - but she lunged towards the reaper, sword poised. The last thing she saw was the swinging scythe miss her.


	17. Chapter 17

17

_"Never forget your mission. Vigilance must not live."_

* * *

She heard running water. Revya stirred slightly, her cheek pressed against something flat and cool. Alabaster? The alabaster paths of Haephnes' garden? Then that must be the steam she heard...

No. She was in Prodesto, fighting for her life.

Swallowing a surge of dread, she opened her eyes.

She was in Haephnes' garden.

She blinked, and then realized something was wrong. The sky wasn't the intense blue she remembered, rather a dull, steel blue that lent the air itself a gray tinge. She also realized that, though she could see one of the alabaster pathways, she wasn't lying on it. She was lying in a field of wild flowers. At least, she saw grass and flowers. Frowning, she passed her hand through the stalks. She felt nothing. An illusion then.

She stood, looking around. "Haephnes?"

No answer. That by itself was strange. Haephnes could hear her from anywhere in the garden, and she almost always answered. Revya bit her lower lip. However much this looked like home, she knew it wasn't.

Its familiarity made it all the worse. She walked the alabaster path, knowing it would lead her to - yes, there was her favorite swimming spot. And there was the field where she had first practiced her swordfighting. And there was Haephnes' vision pool, surrounding by lilies. She bent over it. The water was dark and held no reflection.

Revya continued walking, turning onto the most familiar path of all. It was here that she found her surprise. The path led to a thin, alabaster arch, under which were small flower bushes. There should have been a low bed as well. Revya's bed. Haephnes had told her she had always slept there, even as a baby. She remembered waking up her last morning in the garden, staring up at the blue sky and wondering if Prodesto's sky would look anything like it.

But the small copse was empty.

"So, looks like you got caught up in this shitstorm too."

Revya spun. She'd only ever heard her own and Haephnes' voice in this garden. Now Haephnes was nowhere and Gig was speaking to her. He surveyed their surroundings, hands in his pockets, gauntlets hovering to either side, an eyebrow raised.

"Did Dio's spell do this? Or...am I dead?"

Gig stared at her a moment, then laughed. "You keep forgetting you can't die, huh? Nah, the afterlife is my realm, and I sure as hell haven't seen this place before."

"Can we get out?"

He didn't answer.

Revya remembered Dio's chant: _...the land where none shall free him..._

"I think we're stuck here."

He shrugged. "That isn't their style. They don't want to imprison me. They're out for blood."

Revya glanced at the empty archway again, then stepped away from it, towards Gig. She glanced to the side. The familiar surroundings, far from encouraging her, were disquieting. "I suppose I should get back to trying to kill you."

He sighed, more than a little impatiently. "Kid, even I get sick of that after a while. Just give it a rest, would you?" He started walking away.

Revya watched him a moment. Well, the only possible advantage she'd ever get was surprise. So she'd just have to wait for a chance. She followed him. Then she changed her mind and walked alongside him. If he reacted, she didn't notice it.

"You've never seen this place before?" Revya asked after a moment.

"That's what I said."

They crossed one of the garden's many bridges. This was the one Revya had fallen off of when she was eight. "When I talked to Feinne, she showed me an image of you here."

Gig looked sharply at her.

"You were here, talking to Haephnes."

Gig glanced around, less indifferently this time. "So this is Haephnes' place?"

"Yes. At least...I think it's trying to be."

Gig walked in silence for a moment. "You talked to Feinne? You mean, she talked back?"

"As well as she could." They were now walking through a grove of trees, towards one of the cleared areas Revya thought of as a park.

"Well, her mind's pretty screwed up, so I wouldn't trust what she said."

Revya glanced at him. "She knew - well, she told me she knew you in her past life. And you two were here."

Gig looked genuinely puzzled. "She shouldn't even remember her past life. And...I swear I've never been here before."

The grove opened up into the park. They stopped.

Across the white alabaster was a long trail of blood.

Gig's eyes slid over and past it, and then he was looking at one of the trees as if it were more interesting.

Revya looked at the blood, then Gig, remembering the vision Feinne had sent her, Resilience bleeding while Gig... She looked down again. The blood was still wet.

Gig stepped around the blood and kept walking. Revya didn't move. "You've never been here before?"

Gig stopped and looked back at her, and she expected a torrent of sarcasm, but he said nothing.

"I grew up here," Revya said. "I never saw blood on the paths. So..."

"You're saying this place is a figment of _my_ memory then?" Gig asked. "Funny, you think I'd have some clue why I'm here." His glance dropped to the pool of blood again and he turned away.

"But-"

"Kid!" Now he was practically shouting. "Don't make me grind you into the pavement."

"Sorry," Revya said after she'd caught up. "I'm just trying to figure out what's going on."

"Sorry?" he repeated. "You're waiting to kill me, but first you're going to say sorry?" He wasn't smiling.

They walked for a few more minutes in silence, Revya looking around her. It should be her home. It should be the safest place in the world. It wasn't.

"You know," she said as they walked along the slow curves of the river, "I want to die honestly."

He flicked her a look.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to kill you. I don't even know why I'm supposed to kill you - or Vigilance - or anybody. And the next time you kill me, it's for keeps." He stopped walking. So did she. "The Crimson Tear that kept bringing me back was destroyed several weeks ago." He stared at her. "Gestahl did it."

He ran his eyes up and down her, then back to her face. "You mean when you became my supposedly devoted minion, you were on borrowed time?"

She sighed, then shrugged. "No more borrowed than any other mortal."

His snorted. "Well, that was ballsy."

Revya saw a flash of color behind him, down the riverbank. "Gestahl's here."

Gig cocked his head. "If this is one of these, 'I look the other way, you stab me in the back' gambits, just understand I_ will_ turn around in time to gut you." He whipped himself around, scythe forming along his arm, parrying Gestahl's sword blow. The zombie fell back several paces, sword swinging around him defensively. Gig still faced him, casually presenting his back to Revya. "Where's your asshat Dracon?"

"The spell was only supposed to transport the two of us," Gestahl replied. "Me and my prey." He looked past Gig, at Revya. "Leave us, misbegotten child."

"Hey, there's enough ass-kicking for everybody. I don't play favorites. Well, actually, no, I do, but that's okay. I still have time for you, zombie turd."

Gestahl rushed towards him. Gig sidestepped, his scythe lashing across his opponent's face. Gestahl's bandages fell away, but he shrugged off the blow. He also didn't slow down.

Revya had no time to draw sword. As Gestahl's red blade swung towards her, it was met by Gig's scythe, clanging against it.

"Sorry, already earmarked this one as my own kill. You'll have to settle for me."

Gestahl roared and flung himself at the Master of Death. Their weapons clattered together, and it was Gestahl who gave ground first. "You died easily enough the first time," he panted. One hand held his side. As he breathed, Revya could see the pale gleam of bone through his torn skin. Gig didn't reply to that beyond narrowing his eyes.

They engaged again, the dull light striking off their weapons. Revya hesitated, wondering if she should join, try to tip the odds in Gestahl's favor. Somehow, she didn't dare.

The two blades scraped across each other, Gig tossing the red sword into the air. Gestahl held up his hand, directing the sword point-first at Gig. Gig slashed his unguarded stomach, dodging the blade.

"You did remember I'm a god, right? Or did you forget that you're a half-rotted sack of maggots with a trick sword?" He swiped the scythe across Gestahl's neck.

Revya could hardly believe it, but the zombie reeled back, his blade clattering to the ground. He pressed both hands onto his neck, as if trying to hold his life inside by sheer force of will.

"Any last words?" Gig asked. "I was nice and didn't cut the windpipe." He glanced at Revya, eyes dancing. "Wasn't I sweet?"

Brownish-red blood was streaming from beneath Gestahl's hands. He toppled to his knees. "You - you -"

"I - I -" Gig prompted.

"...took what I love." Gestahl fell forward onto his face. "My world...and...my... Revya..."

There was silence.

Gig stepped forward and cleanly decapitated the corpse. Then he looked up. "I get the world bit, but who's Revya?"

Revya's hand was pressed to her breastbone, above her pounding heart. "My name is..."

Gig looked from her to the corpse. "Is it?" He kicked the body. "Some relation of yours?"

She tightened her lips, forcing herself not to throw up. "I don't know. I don't have any family except for Haephnes."

Gig shrugged. "Anyway." He raised his scythe to eye level. "You wanna die too?"

Revya closed her eyes, then reached back and withdrew the onyx blade, hoping her death would be as quick as Gestahl's. "Honestly, I don't want to die." She met Gig's eyes. "I want to live. I've always wanted to. Even without the Crimson Tear."

"Yeah, but you also want to kill me."

She thought of Nandi and Atendil, the fear of her helplessness before him. "I wish I could kill you. I wish I had that power. But if Haephnes freed me from my mission..."

"You'd let me live?" He laughed. "O, noble hero, I weep from your compassion! I'm going to lead a reformed life!"

Revya took a deep breath. "What's going to happen to my soul?"

Gig smiled, very sweetly. "I'll eat you. Seems like the best way to end such a deep and meaningful relationship."

Revya gave him her own smile. "Eat hearty."

He dove towards her, blade-first. She swung her sword up, sidestepped. The force of parrying his scythe made her entire body shake, and she took a half-step back, barely missing the swipe aimed at her stomach. Blood pounded in her ear as they circled, Gig cocking his scythe up at the elbow. Revya concentrated on breathing and watching the red scythe. Could she still see Gestahl's blood on it? Did it feed on blood?

Stupidly she focused on that a moment, and Gig surged toward her. Revya snapped her mind back under control and, guided more by instinct than strategy, pivoted away from the scythe, driving her sword under towards Gig's ribs. He was too fast, hooking the scythe around her sword, preparing to disarm her. She rolled her blade out of his. Almost too fast for her to register - certainly too fast for her to think - the red scythe swept towards her. She didn't have time to parry, only fall back and lift her arm. The strike only tore her skin, too fast to hurt until it was over. She sucked in her breath, then, nerves shot through with pain and energy, lunged forward. Red flared across his chest.


	18. Chapter 18

18

_"You'll be all right, child."_

_"I hope so."_

_"I look forward to seeing you again. Though...you and I may be very different people when next we meet."_

* * *

The blades slid past each other, touching just long enough to scrape, spraying blood between them. Revya tried to wrench her body around, amazed she was still alive, had time for a another strike. The blades crashed together, shaking her skeleton. Blood dripped like a jagged banner down Gig's front, the red startling against his gray skin and drab clothes. Revya tried to step away - couldn't - Gig's eyes widened.

The red veins of the scythe snaked around the onyx blade, binding the two weapons. As Gig stared, as though stunned, Revya pulled with all her strength. Gig reflexively drew back. The weapons snapped apart, and Revya drove her sword into his chest.

Gig stepped back, out of the sword's grasp, staggering to his hip. The veins on his scythe burned brightly, then the scythe fell apart and clattered to the ground, making him seem oddly small without his gauntlets. Revya reeled back, dropping her sword in - fear?

"Shit." Gig's voice came as a rasp. He blinked, and Revya could see he was having difficulty focusing. He twisted his left hand into the wound, but blood dribbled freely around it. "Lucky shot, huh? Going to gloat?"

Revya dropped to her knees, either because they could no longer support her or because it felt wrong to be standing over him as he died. He'd slumped onto his side, supported by his elbow. His normally pallid face was white, his eyes wide and dark.

"What?" Gig asked. "You're going to apologize? Don't look at me with that kid face. You're supposed to be making a speech about how I deserve this." Revya watched as he lowered himself onto his back, staring up at the sky, breathing erratically. "I still don't...know why I'm here." He closed his eyes. For a long time, she listened to the sound of his breathing.

And then she heard nothing.

Revya released a long, ragged breath. She looked down at his blood running on the alabaster path - her own blood, dripping down her arm. That was all? She'd faced Death and gotten away with nothing but a scrape.

She'd killed him, another living, thinking being. It suddenly seemed sick that she'd had the chance and taken it. She shook her head. It had been her mission. Now it was over. It was so quiet.

She studied his face, having never seen it still before. He wasn't the Master of Death anymore, he was only a body. Like anyone else after death. She reached forward and pulled his hand out of his chest, resting it against his collarbone.

The air shivered. Revya drew her arm back from the body, wondering if fatigue from the battle had impaired her vision. The air trembled again.

"This...this isn't right," a man's voice said.

Revya tensed, looking at the corpse. It hadn't moved, but the voice seemed to come from it, or close to it.

"I see Median, but...I never killed him. And...you should be dead."

Revya fruitlessly searched for the source of the voice, but her attention always returned to the corpse. "Who are you?"

There was a long silence after that. Revya thought the voice might have left - somehow - except the air around Gig's body continued to tremble, like a heat shimmer.

"I see it now," the voice said abruptly. "What in hell have I done?"

"Who are you?" Revya asked again.

"I used to be Gig," the voice said after a moment. And, as he spoke, Revya realized the voice did sound familiar. Thinner, the words coming more carefully, but familiar. "And before that, I was Vigilance."

"Then..." Revya thought back to the visions, Gig talking with Haephnes, Gig crouched over Resilience. "Feinne was right."

"Feinne?" the voice repeated. Then the voice shifted, became rougher. "Resilience? That - wretch? Who took her own life just to-" The voice quickly cut off, the air shaking more violently. After more than a minute, it stilled somewhat, and Revya thought she heard a whisper: "Resilience."

"What happened to you?" Revya's gaze hovered between the corpse's face and the air-shimmer. "How did you become Gig?"

"I'm only beginning to piece it all together. Vigilance was killed by Median, and I...was reborn with a terrible anger in my heart." The voice didn't speak for a long time. "The reaper should not be wounded by the injustice of death. I called myself the Master of Death, but no one masters it, no one ever understands it. I was killed easily, and Resilience...before I could stop her, she..." Revya didn't break the silence. "Vigilance's pain was the first aspect of life Gig knew, and though I was brought into the care of...people who did not wish Prodesto well, they did not have to work hard to make me despise the world."

"So-" Revya wondered if this sounded as insane as she suspected it did "-who are you now? Gig or Vigilance?"

The voice waited before replying. "I don't know. Both. Neither."

"Do you think you're Vigilance?"

There was another hesitation, then the voice laughed, sounding very close to Gig for a moment. "You want to know if you still have to kill me?"

Revya wasn't sure if the laugh made things better or worse. "Why does Haephnes want you dead? She - never said you were a bad person."

"Whether or not you die has nothing to do with the sort of person you are. I suspect - I hope - Haephnes wants me at rest."

"I don't understand."

"Wherever my soul goes, it takes Gig and Vigilance with it. Vigilance, suffering from an unjust death, and Gig, warped by hate. Both unhallowed. I can only cleanse myself by reentering the cycle."

Revya glanced around the dreamlike surroundings, at Gestahl's corpse.

"He has already passed on," the voice said, as though she'd asked a question. "Nothing binds him to this dead world, my memory. I doubt Dio even knew what he imprisoned us in. Neither did I until now." The voice paused again. "I'm not worthy to be here, not even in a cage that resembles the Celestial Garden."

"If you want to move on, why are you still here?"

Gig's corpse hadn't moved, nor had the shimmer. Still, Revya had the undeniable feeling the voice was looking directly at her. She looked back.

"Pain links me to this dream. To break its bonds, I need a guide."

Revya didn't want to speak. "You're the reaper. You guide the souls."

"My scythe was broken."

Revya glanced down the path, to where his scythe had fallen from his arm. Then she tensed.

She barely remembered dropping the onyx blade. She couldn't have dropped it so close to the scythe. It must have moved. Somehow, the red veins of the scythe had coiled up the black blade. Its tip bore the long red scythe that had killed so many, sword and scythe clasped together.

"Wait-" Revya's breath came too fast. "What does this mean?"

"I think you know."

"You want _me_ to guide you? But I-"

"You swore to, kid." She jumped at the _kid_, but he went on. "By guiding me out of this existence, you will kill me. That's what death really is: freeing the soul back into the cycle."

Revya curled her fingers into fists, to keep them from shaking. "If I touch that...scythe, do I become the reaper?"

"Of course."

"Forever?"

Again, she had the feeling the voice was watching her. "I don't know. It might be forever. It might only be for a moment."

Revya stared at the entwined weapons, red and black, then turned to Gig's corpse.

"I know you owe me no debts," the voice said softly. "I can only beg you to release me."

Revya looked at Gig's hand, glistening with blood. The blood she'd drawn. "What will happen to us? When we leave this world? In the soul cycle. Will I die?"

The voice didn't answer.

She forced a laugh. "You sure aren't helpful."

"I don't know," the voice came back, a slight edge of humor to it. "Gods don't normally die, let alone twice." It became thoughtful. "I don't even know what I'll come back as. I know I deserve a weighty penance for my crimes, of both lives."

"And you need me to guide you."

"Yes."

Revya drew a long, slow breath. She stood, walked over to the weapons. Grasping the onyx blade's hilt, she lifted it. The hilt was familiar, but the scythe's weight was not. She studied the red curve. She could see her own blood on it.

"Okay," she said. "Let's do this."


	19. Chapter 19

19

Robert smiled with satisfaction at his sign: _BobPods: Robert's Prize Winning Hotpods,_ painted in blue and yellow. It didn't look half bad hung over the front door of his house, in plain view of any travelers who passed by on the way to New Raide. The plans to rebuild the city had finally begun, and he knew plenty of people would now be leaving the boondocks, eager for money and opportunity. And hotpods. Oh, yes.

His eldest child, six year old Tenda, thumped into him, her brow butting his hip. "Da-ad, Mo's being a poop-head."

"Poop-head isn't a nice thing to call someone," Robert recited, stepping away from her to consider the sign from a slight distance. "And Mo's only three, so you should learn to ignore him."

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes with a sarcasm beyond her years. "I can't _wait_ for Mom to pop out the next baby." She chewed her pinkie nail while Robert surveyed the house. It seemed to be...holding up. It was nothing like the hut he'd grown up in, nor even the hut he'd brought his wife home to. But people were finding that, without the threat of the reaper, they were able to devote time to building more permanent structures, closer communities. He studied the flat roof. He could learn to like it.

"Hey, Dad, did you hear? They say Lady Tricia might be coming to Madora this summer. At least, that's what Kelsey said. She didn't believe me when I told her Lady Tricia is friends with a World Eater. But it's true, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes," Robert said absently. "Now, I want you to help me pick some lettuce for tonight's dinner. Mom can't handle everything these days, and - oh!"

Tenda glanced around him to see what he was surprised by. "Ooo! Strangers!"

Two figures were approaching on the road that wound past their small farm.

Robert leaned towards his daughter. "Go get a box of hotpods. Sit on the stoop. Talk to yourself about how yummy they are." As Tenda ran to oblige, Robert picked up the first tool he could find (a rake) and set about raking the grass of his front lawn, the picture of a busy, if unintelligent, farmer. As the strangers drew near, he studied them out of the corner of his eye.

They seemed to be of an age, both in their mid-twenties. The man was tall and skinny, his hair and skin unnaturally pale. He had a long scythe in one hand which appeared to double as a walking stick. He wore drab clothes, and his face was tattooed. The woman was slightly shorter, her red hair cropped and, in Robert's opinion, her clothes were more attention-grabbing than practical. But the longsword on her back seemed to be all business.

Just as they approached the house, Tenda flumped down in the grass, a crate of pods on her lap. She bit into one. "Mmmmmm, yummy. This is, like, the best hotpod I've tasted in, like, an hour. The ones I had with breakfast were yummy too. They're all so good."

The strangers' strides slowed as they came abreast of the house, heads angled up to read the sign. Then they stopped. Still staring at the sign.

"'BlobPods'?" Robert heard the woman mutter.

"Your eyesight's going," the man muttered back. "It says 'PobPods'." He turned to her. "So what's a pob?"

"You're the ex-gob - er - god. You tell me."

Robert hadn't heard the end of the exchange, as he was gazing sadly at his sign. It was a good sign. It _was_. His writing hadn't been that messy. Had it?

The woman stepped up to the front gate. "Hello."

Robert put on a pleasant face and bustled towards her. "Hello. Traveled far?"

"Yes." She ran her hand through her hair. "We've come all the way from Tellis. We're headed for Corsius."

Robert raised his eyebrows. "You...do know there's a dragon in that area? It's been destroying the crops, and I think it's killed several people."

The woman gave him a friendly shrug. "That's why we're going. See if we can help out. So anyway, how much for a pod or two?"

"Very cheap," Robert sparkled.

The woman half turned to the man. "Hey, Vig." The name rhymed with _dig_, and Robert couldn't help thinking that it was sort of a stupid name. "Do you want one?"

As Tenda was holding up the crate, allowing the woman to pick her pods, Robert heard his wife step outside. "Bobbo, have you seen the hammer? I swear, I am going to fix that chair, I don't care how many times you tell me I can't. It creaks every time I - I - Atendil, get away!"

Tenda jumped back, dropping the crate. The strange woman tensed, face lifted, eyes as wide as a trapped animal's. Robert glanced at the man, wondering if there was about to be some serious trouble, but he seemed to be looking deliberately away, his face hidden. He'd inverted the scythe, hiding its blade in the long grass by the roadside.

"Danette, what's wrong?" Robert crossed to his wife, standing between her and the strangers. Tenda had run back, her arms around Danette's swollen middle.

Danette didn't speak, her large eyes narrowed, her lip quivering slightly.

"Sorry," the woman whispered, backing away. The moment her heel touched the road, she turned and began walking quickly. Her companion didn't linger.

Tenda watched until they were gone, then tilted her head back to look up at her mother. "Mommy?"

Danette drew a sharp breath and bit her lip.

* * *

They hadn't talked after leaving the hotpod farm and when, an hour later, they came across a field, Revya said she wanted a rest. Vig shrugged. While Revya lay back in the grass, he wandered off.

She cloud-gazed for a while, trying to think only of the clouds' aimless drifting, trying not to think about Danette. She'd occasionally run into some of the vigilantes, at least those who had lived through the final confrontation. Tricia had become famous simply by saving Raksha. Revya had heard rumors of Levin and Endorph taking on Christophe's black markets. Odie once invited Revya to stay a week at his fancy home in Orviska, though he'd looked rather concerned when he'd seen Vig. Luckily he hadn't asked questions, because Revya wasn't sure how she would've answered them. She was glad, for everyone's sake, that Dio hadn't been there.

But Danette...that was one reunion she'd hoped would never take place. Revya closed her eyes, remembering Danette's face, the mixture of fear and anger, old wounds reopened. She sighed, and as she breathed in, she smelled something familiar.

Revya sat up, then crawled through the grass to a spot of color: a spearlike spray of purple flowers._ It's my favorite flower,_ she remembered being told. _Out of all the flowers I've made. It's called loosestrife. _

"What's wrong?" came Vig's voice, rather kindly. Revya realized she'd been on hands and knees in front of the flower, unmoving, for at least a minute.

"Um...well. Nothing." She shrugged and sat up in a kneeling position.

Vig sighed. "Can you hear me rolling my eyes? Here, I'll do it again."

Revya ran her hand over the buds. "I just...I don't know. I don't think I'll ever see her again."

Vig reached down and fingered her hair, lightly rubbing the nape of her neck. "Let's hope not."

Revya frowned up at him in confusion, then shook her head. "No, not...Danette. I meant..." She sighed and stood. "I meant Haephnes."

"I wouldn't commit myself to never seeing her again." Vig stepped back and started walking away. "She's a slippery bitch."

Revya gave the loosestrife one last look, then caught up in a few strides. "It's been eight years. If she wanted to see me again, she could've..."

He looked sharply at her. "Do you want to go back to that garden?"

"No," she admitted. It was a question she'd asked and answered many times over the years. "Not to stay. But - still - she could've come here."

"Hell knows she probably will," Vig replied grimly. "She'll drop in when we least want her, yakking about some grand destiny she's picked out for us. All she needs is a big screw-up for us to fix. I'm still waiting on that penance to atone for my past lives."

Revya sighed, then took a deep breath, letting herself laugh. "Count your blessings. We've been walking for half a day, the road ends here and it looks we'll have to trudge through fields now, I forgot our food back at the inn, and we're headed for an angry dragon."

"I am noble and pure of heart," Vig replied. "Such trivialities do not qualify as penance." Then muttered, "You lard-brained wench."

She lengthened her stride. "If I can hope that I'll see Haephnes again, you can hope we'll find food somewhere."

He sighed and began switching his scythe as they walked, moodily cutting the long grass.

"I hope Danette doesn't spread rumors," Revya said presently. No one but she and Vig knew that she had killed the Master of Death. No one had been there when they struggled out of the cycle and returned to Prodesto. Still, someone might have heard a story, might remember that she once had been unable to die. And... "I hope she didn't recognize _you_."

He shrugged. "Who'd believe her if she did?"

"I hope you're right." She shook out her hair, thinking. "Tricia, Endorph, Thorndyke... they're the war heroes. People can spread rumors about them. Honestly...I'm glad nobody really knows who I am."

He smiled. "So I'm a nobody now? What makes you think anyone will remember you instead of me?"

Revya stared up at the sky. After a moment, Vig's voice broke through her musings. "Stop brooding on it, kid. You'll see her again."

"It's all right," Revya said after a moment. She glanced at him. "I'm with you. I'm not bored."


End file.
